behalf, and succeeded in pacifying them. On reaching the ship,
which was anchored within a mile of the coast, Jensen complained to
me ominously that he was getting fairly swamped with natives, who
persisted in coming on board with fruit and vegetables for barter.
He said he was getting quite nervous about the crowds that swarmed
over the vessel, the natives going up and down as though they had a
perfect right to do so.

"I don't like it," said the captain, "and shall have to put my foot
down."

Next morning, when the usual batch of native canoes came alongside,
we declined to allow a single man on board. While we were
explaining this to them, our friend the chief himself arrived,
accompanied by half-a-dozen notables, most of whom I knew, together
with the now friendly dignitary whose wrath we had aroused the
previous day. They were all full of dignity and anticipation.
Captain Jensen, however, was obdurate, and refused permission to
any one to come aboard. That was enough for the chiefs. They went
away in high dudgeon, followed immediately by all the other canoes
and their occupants. When all had disappeared, a curious stillness
came over the ship, the sea, and the tropical coast, and a strange
sense of impending danger seemed to oppress all of us. We knew
that we had offended the natives, and as we could not see a single
one of them on the beach, it was pretty evident that they were
brooding over their grievance. We might have weighed anchor and
made for the open sea, only unfortunately there was a perfect calm,
and our sails, which were set in readiness for a hasty departure,
hung limp and motionless. Suddenly, as we stood looking out
anxiously over the side in the direction of the shore, we were