As soon as we brought up, two of the boats were sent ashore under charge of Mr Griffiths, he going in one, and I, with Jim and Horner, in another.
As we got near the beach we saw that a heavy surf was breaking on it. Mr Griffiths, however, thought that we could land safely, and waiting till the wave had burst, we dashed on.
Though we shipped a good deal of water, the boats got in safely. The natives being accustomed to supply whalers, guessing what we wanted, had come down with a number of hogs to sell. The price for one was a bottle of powder, and five could be purchased for an old musket.
We had brought a number of these articles for barter. Mr Griffiths ordered me to stand by the boats while he carried on the trade.
As was my custom, I looked about in the hopes of seeing some English sailor of whom I might make inquiries about my brother Jack.
When we had purchased as many pigs as the boats would carry, we prepared to shove off.
The natives made signs to us that we had better be careful, but we didn’t understand them, and the pigs being put on board, we shoved off.
“I’ll lead,” said Mr Griffiths. “When you see me safe outside you can follow,” and away he went.
He got through one breaker, but what was my horror to see the next catch the boat and roll her completely over! We knew that the place abounded with ground-sharks, and we expected to see either him or some of the other men carried off by the savage creatures.
He was not a bad swimmer, but, at the same time, was unaccustomed to make his way through a heavy surf.