Mary Liddiard; Or, The Missionary's Daughter

by William Henry Giles Kingston

She then told me that Lisele was safe, although she had run great risk of being captured by the heathens. The fleet we had seen was the remnant of that with which Masaugu had set sail. Though at first victorious in his expedition, he had been attacked by overwhelming numbers of his enemies, and, with the loss of a large portion of his warriors, and many of his canoes, had with difficulty reached the island. On his arrival he found a large party of the heathens, who had heard that he intended to lotu, arrayed against him, and once more he had to put to sea. He had, however, reached the end of the island where we now were. There Lisele had joined him, and, at her earnest entreaties, he had left a canoe to convoy us away. Abela told us also that Tofa and the young Englishman had been communicated with, and she hoped that they would be found already on board the canoe.

“Oh then we will proceed at once to Mr Hilton’s station,” I exclaimed. “What joy it will be if we find that my father has not yet quitted it.”

“Such are Masaugu’s intentions,” said Abela. “He has seen the folly of his conduct in going to attack his enemies when so earnestly warned by your father, and now he wishes to remain with the Christian missionary, that he may receive instruction in the truths he before despised.”

The news we thus received caused us many conflicting feeling’s. We deeply grieved for the loss of the faithful Nanari, while my anxiety about my father was still unrelieved. Yet we rejoiced that Masaugu, through the severe lesson he had received, should have been induced to seek for Christian instruction.

Our path down the ravine was extremely difficult, and often dangerous, and we could make but slow progress. Abela, however, hurried on as fast as we could venture to proceed, for she feared that the heathens, knowing that many of the Christians had escaped, would be searching for us, and that although they might not dare to follow Masaugu’s fleet, they would not hesitate to attack the single canoe, with only a small party on board. At length we caught sight of the blue ocean, but the sparkling white lines of foam I saw dancing over it, made me fear that the canoe would have a hard buffet with the waves.

We were already not far from the beach, when we saw two persons running towards us—they were Tofa and the young Englishman. “Hasten,” they exclaimed; “a large band of our enemies are coming along the shore, and we have been in dread that you would be cut off.” The latter, who of course spoke in English, took Maud and me by the hands to assist us, and helped along by him we soon reached the boat. The crew stood ready with poles to urge on the canoe into deep water. We were speedily on board, and launching forth; the wind being favourable, a large triangular mat sail was set, and we glided away from the beach.

Scarcely had we got beyond the reach of their spears, than the savages arrived at the spot we had left. Several were hurled at us, but happily no one was hit, and the next shower, which the vindictive savages darted from their hands, fell short of our canoe.

Abela and every Christian with her knelt down on the deck and offered up an earnest prayer—in which we joined—that the hearts of our foes might be changed, and that they would ere long be brought to know the truth. The savages continued shrieking and shouting at us till we had got outside the reef. Happily no canoe was near, or they would undoubtedly have followed us.

We could see Masaugu’s fleet in the far distance; but as our canoe was smaller than any of his we could not hope to overtake him. I was thankful, however, to find that he was steering towards Mr Hilton’s station, where we hoped in time to arrive. The sea was, as I had feared, very rough, and though our canoe was strong and buoyant, she was tossed much about, and had it not been for the assistance of the young Englishman and Tofa, we should have had great difficulty in clinging to the deck. In the centre was a small house or cabin, generally used by the chief or owner of the canoe, and this we found was to be devoted to our use at night as a sleeping place. Still, as I surveyed the curiously-constructed and apparently weak vessel, I could not help feeling that a voyage on board her of the length we were about to attempt, must be attended with much danger. Happily we could say at sea as on shore, “We will trust ourselves to the care of One all-powerful to save.”

As I now had a better opportunity of observing the young stranger more particularly than before, I felt more convinced than at first that he was a person of education. His manner towards Maud and me especially, was retiring and reserved, and he seemed unwilling to intrude himself upon us. After some time, however, he came and sat near us, and thanked me for the note I had written, which, as he supposed, had not only been the means of obtaining his freedom, but of his life being preserved.