Meantime we were watching with deep interest the approach of the strangers, expecting any moment we might be called on to engage in deadly conflict with them, should they discover us and be inclined for war. Cousin Silas had, however, charged us on no account to commence hostilities till it was evident that they would not allow us to retain peaceable possession of our island. As they drew near they lowered their large mat sail, and took to their paddles. We held our breath with anxiety, for we could count nearly forty people on board the canoe. Besides the men, there were both women and children. The men were tall, fine-looking fellows; some had on turbans and cloaks, and all had wide kilts of native cloth, and the women were decently habited in petticoats. We observed among them spears, and bows and arrows, and two or three muskets, which they held up conspicuously above their heads. As they approached the shore they looked about, apparently to discover any signs of inhabitants. Perhaps their quick sight had shown them our hut and flag-staff. On they came. They passed the passage through the reef, and running the canoe on to the smooth sand, both men and women leaped out, and began to haul her up on the beach. Now was the time to appear before them, and to attack them if they gave signs of hostility; but just as we were going to rush out to take them by surprise, they had hauled up their canoe sufficiently high to prevent the possibility of her drifting away, and then one and all, climbing up the beach, fell down on their knees, lifting up their hands and bursting forth into a hymn of praise. There could be no doubt about it; the words were strange to our ears, but the tune was one well-known to us all. Then one—the eldest of the party—uttered a prayer in a deep and solemn voice, all the rest joining afterwards in a response. About that, also, there could be no doubt.

Savages though they might seem, they were evidently Christians, and though we might not be able to understand each other’s language, they would receive us in the bond of brotherhood. We all, I doubt not, felt ashamed of our previous suspicions; though, to be sure, the precautions we had taken were very right and just. At a sign from Cousin Silas, we advanced slowly from our ambush, and, kneeling down at a little distance from them, joined them in the tune of the last hymn they sang. They looked surprised, but no one moved till the hymn was over; and then they got up, and, advancing fearlessly towards us, we shook hands cordially all round.

On a nearer inspection, we saw by their emaciated looks and the battered condition of their canoe that they must have undergone much hardship. Perhaps they thought us rather a rough set for Englishmen, for our clothes were somewhat tattered, and Mr Brand’s and the doctor’s, and Ben’s beards, whiskers, and moustaches were of considerable length, and not a little tangled.

After some experiments, we found that one of the men could speak a little English, but we failed to get out of him an account of their history. We were, however, able to explain to them that, if they would accompany us, we would supply them with food, water, and shelter, of which they evidently stood much in need. We first assisted them in hauling their canoe still further up the beach, so that she could not drift off again at the top of high-water; and then we all commenced our journey to our house. Many of the poor creatures were very weak and ill; and it was interesting to see Ben carrying a baby in each arm, and helping along the mothers at the same time. We all did the same, but his way was more remarkable. He would talk to the poor women, and encourage him by his tone, if not by his words; and then he would kiss the children, and dance them, and sing, and whistle, and chirp to them, greatly to the delight of the little creatures, and, I have no doubt, to that of their mothers also.

When we reached our settlement, we made up beds for the most sickly-looking, and the doctor, examining them, administered some restoratives. While he was doing so, we got fires lighted, and putting all our pots, and pans, and cooking-baskets into requisition, we soon had fish frying and boiling, and turtle stewing, and bread-fruit and various roots baking; indeed, the eyes of the poor creatures glistened—as well they might—with the anticipated feast. The doctor, seeing their eagerness, warned us to take care that they did not eat too much at a time; and, to prevent their doing so, assisted in serving out a small share only to each. To the invalids and children he only gave at first a few spoonfuls of turtle-soup; but that had a great effect in reviving them. The people seemed to comprehend clearly the reason why we gave them only a small quantity. Hungry as they were, before any one would touch the food, one of the elders stood up and, spreading out his hands, uttered a grace over it, in which the rest joined, evidently with pious sincerity. I could not help thinking to myself, How differently do these poor Christian savages, as they may be called, act to what would be the case with many civilised Christians under similar circumstances! The prayers of these poor people are undoubtedly acceptable to the all-loving God, who bestows his bounteous gifts with so lavish a hand on us his unworthy creatures; but what can we say of the hurried, scarcely muttered ejaculations to which the master of many a house in civilised England gives vent, as if afraid, in the presence of his polished guests—miserable worms like himself—of uttering a word of thanksgiving to the great Dispenser of all the blessings bestowed on him? Should a bishop, or some high dignitary of the church, be present, then perhaps, in an ostentatious tone, he is requested to ask a blessing on the banquet; and grace for once is uttered in an audible voice. Far be it from me to say that this is always the case, but who can deny that it is too often so? My young friends, I have learned many things in my voyage round the world, and this matter among others from those missionary, taught savages. Grace being said, they quietly partook of the provisions set before them, and though the eyes of some of the younger ones wandered towards the pots and the fire, no one even asked for more than we gave them.

When they had eaten, we made signs for them to lie down and rest. This they did with the most perfect confidence, as if not the shade of any suspicion of treachery crossed their minds. Some were suffering from sores and ulcers, brought on by constant exposure and wet, and to these the doctor at once attended with evident solicitude; which, it was clear, completely won their hearts. We watched over them carefully while they slept, driving away the flies and insects which seemed disposed to settle on them; indeed, in every way, to the best of our power, we treated them as men should men, and not as so-called Christians too often treat their fellow-creatures. What we might have done had not Cousin Silas set us the example, I cannot say; I only know that we were, happily, much influenced by his conduct and exhortations. My long stay in that lone island had, I feel, a very beneficial effect with me. I had time to meditate, to reflect, to look into myself, to examine my own heart and feelings, which I might never have done had I been mixing with the bustling, thoughtless world. Again and again I must urge my young friends to examine themselves—to reflect constantly. Do not say that there is no time—make time. It is one of the most important works of your life. Do not let trivialities put it off. Nothing you can possibly gain by the neglect can recompense you, however important you may for the time think the work in which you are engaged.

The first thing the strangers did on waking was to sit up and sing a hymn, and then several of them pulled out of the pockets secured to their waists books, which we had no doubt were Bibles; others had hymn-books, or devotional books of some sort.

The next day two or three of the strongest made signs that they would like to go and look at their canoe; but the others seemed content to remain where they were—indeed, many of them could not have moved even had they wished it. Jerry and I accompanied our new friends to the canoe. They seemed satisfied when they saw that she was safe; and having procured a few articles from her, and among them several cooking utensils, they returned with us to the settlement. They made signs, as they examined the canoe, that she would require much repair before she was again fit to put to sea. She was, to our eyes, a wonderful structure. There was not a nail in her; all her planks were sewed together, and secured in the same way to the ribs. This made her very strong and elastic, and accounted for her being able to endure the rough seas to which she must have been exposed.

Several days passed away, and our guests showed that they were recovering from the effects of their voyage. All this time we could not tell from whence they had come, or where they were going. They tried to explain, but we could not understand them. They were coming from some Christian island, and they were probably going to one; or, perhaps, they were native missionaries anxious to carry the gospel of salvation to their benighted fellow-beings among the inhabitants of Polynesia. We soon came to the conclusion that some were missionaries, who had their wives and children with them. One was a chief, who was escorting them, and the rest were the seamen of the canoe. Mr Brand arrived at this conclusion.

“But, sir,” said Jerry, “I thought missionaries always wore black coats and white ties!”