All was ready for sailing, when the king invited Captain Cook and his officers to the ceremony which has already been mentioned, and which took place at Mooa, where the king resided. During its performance they had to sit, as did the natives, with their shoulders bare, their hair hanging down loose, their eyes cast down, and their hands locked together. None but the principal people, and those who assisted at the celebration, were allowed to be present. These circumstances, Captain Cook says, were sufficient evidence to him that the people considered themselves as acting under the immediate inspection of a Supreme Being. He was told that in about three months there would be performed, on the same account, a far grander solemnity, on which occasion not only the tribute of Tongataboo, but that of Hapaee, Vavaoo, and of all the other islands, would be brought to the chief, and ten human beings from among the inferior sort of people would be sacrificed to add to its dignity: “a significant instance,” Captain Cook remarks, “of the influence of gloomy and ignorant superstition over the minds of one of the most benevolent and humane nations upon earth.” King Poulaho warmly pressed his guests to remain, that they might witness a funeral ceremony, which was to take place the next day.

During their stay in the island they had suffered from a succession of violent storms. The wind raged fearfully amongst the forest trees, the rain fell in torrents, the lightning flashed, and the thunder pealed with an awful fury of which we, in these more temperate regions, have little idea. Now, however, the wind had become fair and moderate; Captain Cook and his officers, therefore, hurried on board, and as soon as possible the ships got under way. As, however, they could not get to sea before it was dark, they had to bring up for the night under Tongataboo. The next day they reached Eooa, where the English were well received by Captain Cook’s former acquaintance, the chief of the island, Taoofa, or, as he then called him, Tioony. An abundant supply of yams and a few hogs were obtained, and the ram and two ewes of the Cape of Good Hope breed of sheep were entrusted to the chief, who seemed proud of his charge.

Captain Cook made an excursion into the interior, and as he surveyed, from an elevation to which he had ascended, the delightful prospect before him, “I could not,” he says, “help flattering myself with the pleasing idea that some future navigator may, from the same station, behold these meadows stocked with cattle, brought to these islands by the ships of England; and that the completion of this high benevolent purpose, independently of all other considerations, would sufficiently mark to posterity that our voyages had not been useless to the general interests of humanity.” The great navigator here gives utterance to the genuine feelings of his heart, for such were undoubtedly the principles which animated him. He little dreamed that those friendly natives, of whom he had thought so highly, and whom he had praised as among the most humane people on earth, had, headed by Feenou, laid a plot for his destruction, and that of all his followers. Providentially, the conspirators could not agree as to the mode of proceeding; but all were equally eager to possess themselves of the stores of wealth the ships were supposed to contain. Probably Feenou’s pretended friendship for the foolish Omai was in the hope that he would thus have a ready tool in his hands. He had offered to make Omai a great chief if he would remain in Tonga, but Cook advised him not to accept the offer.

Captain Cook had settled to sail on July 15, but, pressed by Taoofa, who promised more presents, he consented to remain a couple of days. During this period a seaman was surrounded by a number of people, and, being knocked down, had every particle of clothing torn from his back; but, by seizing on a couple of canoes and a fat hog, the English obtained the restoration of some of the articles.

The captain kept to his purpose of sailing, but when still not far from the land a canoe with four men came off, saying that orders had been sent to the people of Eooa to supply the ships with fat hogs, and that if they would return to their former station the king and a number of chiefs would, in a couple of days, be with them. As, however, there was an abundant supply of provisions on board, Captain Cook declined the offer, and continued his coarse.

It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that more fearful massacres of the crews of various ships were perpetrated by the inhabitants of these islands than by any other natives of the Pacific, from the time of the visit just recorded till they were formed into a civilised community under their present government.

After the ships had left the Tonga group they did not see land till August 8, when they fell in with a small island, having on it hills of considerable elevation, covered with grass; tall trees, and numerous plantations on a border of flat land, ran quite round it, edged with a white sandy beach. A number of people were on the shore, and two canoes came off with a dozen men in them, but could not be persuaded, by all Omai’s eloquence, to venture alongside. They spoke the language of Otaheite, and called their island Toobouai. It was at this island that Christian and the mutineers of the Bounty tried to form a settlement, in 1789. It is the scene, also, of Lord Byron’s poem of “The Island,” though he altered the name to Toobouia. Some of the people were dressed in native cloth, but the great mass had only girdles. One continued to blow a conch-shell most of the time the ships lay off their island, while his companions made signs, inviting the strangers to land. It is worthy of remark that no weapons were seen among them.

On the 12th Maitea was seen, and soon after Otaheite hove in sight, and the next day the ships anchored in the Bay of Oheitepeha. Some common people came off in canoes, but Omai took no notice of them, and they did not seem to recognise him as a countryman. At length his brother-in-law, Ootee, appeared, but there was no exhibition of regard or affection till Omai took the other into the cabin and showed him the drawers in which he kept his red feathers. This instantly changed the face of affairs, and Ootee begged that they might be tayos, and change names.

Soon after the ships anchored Omai’s sister came on board, and the meeting was marked with expressions of the most tender affection, evidently not feigned. Afterwards, on going ashore with Captain Cook, Omai met a sister of his mother. “She threw herself at his feet, and bedewed them plentifully with tears of joy,” says the captain, adding, “I left him with the old lady, in the midst of a number of people who had gathered round him.”

Cook found that since his last visit two Spanish ships had twice visited the bay; that a house had been built, and that several persons had been left in the interval, of whom some had died, and the rest went away when the ships came back. They had presented the islanders with a bull, some hogs, goats, and dogs, and had taken away four people, two of whom died, and two came back from a place which Cook conjectured to be Lima. The house, which stood close to the beach, was made of planks, and as these were all numbered they had evidently been brought ready to be set up. It was divided into two small rooms, and in the inner one were a bedstead, a table, a bench, some old hats, and other trifles, of which the natives seemed to be very careful, as also of the house itself, which had suffered no hurt from the weather, a shed having been built over it. There were scuttles all round which served as air-holes, and perhaps they were intended to fire from with musketry, should it have become necessary. At a little distance from the front stood a wooden cross, on the transverse part of which was only the inscription Christus vincit, and on the perpendicular part Carolus Tertius, imperat 1774. On the other side of the post Cook preserved the memory of the prior visits of the English by inscribing, Georgius Tertius, Rex, Annis 1767, 1769, 1773, 1774, and 1777. The natives pointed out the grave of the commodore of the two ships who died there during their first visit.