The wind freshening we made good way, but still the flotilla of canoes was fast overtaking us. The voices of the savages, as they shouted and shrieked at us, were wafted across the water; but they had not the effect of intimidating our friends. “Ah, my boys, you’ll shout to a different tune, I suspect, before long,” exclaimed Ben, as he eyed them angrily. At length, in spite of all the efforts of our friends, the savages got close up to us; and two men in the leading canoe, lifting their bows, were about to draw their arrows, when Cousin Silas exclaimed, “Now is the time, my lads; give it them.” We all fired. The two savages dropped instantly, and one man in each of the next canoes went head foremost overboard. The people in the following canoes hesitated for a minute what to do. The delay gave us time to reload. Again we fired, while our people jumping up sent a flight of arrows among our enemies. Shrieks, and cries, and groans, arose from the canoes, which all crowded thickly together like a flock of sheep, their people astonished and terrified at what had occurred. Then they turned round, and all paddled back in evident confusion. We shouted, and gave them a parting volley; but this time it was over their heads to hasten their movements. We were preserved,—not one of us had received the slightest injury. Away we glided, as fast as the wind and our paddles would carry us from the inhospitable island.
Chapter Nineteen.
Voyage in a whaler—further adventures.
Wearily our voyage had continued for many weeks, yet we felt that having been preserved from so many dangers, it would be sinful to complain. No one was actually sick, not a life had been lost, and by great economy our provisions and water had hitherto been sufficient for our necessities. A flight of birds had passed over our heads, directing their course to the north-east. We saw our chief watching them, and he at once ordered the canoe to be steered in the same direction. All day we stood on. Just as the sun was setting, we thought we saw a faint blue peak rising out of the water, but even the most practised eye could not determine whether it was land or a light cloud. We continued the same course during the night. For several hours I watched, then, overcome by fatigue, I fell asleep. “See! see!” I heard Jerry exclaim. I jumped up. There appeared before us the lofty and rugged peaks of a line of mountains. Of great height they seemed, after the low land to which our eyes had been so long accustomed. Their sides were clothed with verdure, pleasant and refreshing to the sight; and at their bases were groves, and fields, and sparkling streams, with heat pretty-looking cottages scattered about. There was a slight swell. When the canoe rose to the top of it, we could see a yellow beach, with a circle of bright, blue, calm water around
it, and outside a line of white foaming breakers, the guardians of the shore. “Otaheite! Otaheite!” exclaimed the chief and his followers; and we thus knew that we were on the coast of the dominion of the ill-treated Queen Pomare; but we also knew that there were civilised men on shore, and that we should probably be received there with kindness and hospitality.
Soon discovering a passage through the reef, we ran in, and were at once surrounded by canoes full of people, wondering who we were and whence we had come. Our friends quickly gave an outline of our and their adventures, to satisfy curiosity. They found there several people from their own island, one a chief who had become a wealthy man. He took them to his own house, and had their canoe hauled up to be repaired. I need not say that she was visited by all the foreign residents, curious to examine a craft of so frail a structure which had performed so long a voyage. Our consul was very civil to us, and we were received into the house of an English gentleman, who treated us with the greatest kindness. As we met with no very interesting adventures during our stay here, I will content myself with giving a brief account of the island.
Otaheite was discovered in 1767, by Captain Wallis, who called it King George’s Island; but it is better known by the name of Tahiti. It is of volcanic formation, and consists of two peninsulas joined by a neck of low land, about two miles across. The whole island is about thirty miles in circumference. The smaller portion, called Tairaboo, is the most fertile; but as Tahiti proper has the best harbour, it is the most frequented, and is the seat of government.