Nothing exalts a man so quickly in the estimation of his fellow
creatures as killing them. Emperors and kings court the alliance of
the conquering hero returning from fields of slaughter. Ladies in
Melbourne forgot for a time the demands of fashion in their struggles
to obtain an ecstatic glimpse of our modern Bluebeard, Deeming; and
no one was prouder than the belle of the ball when she danced down
the middle with the man who shot Sandy M'Gee.

And the reverence of the mate for his murdering crew was
unfathomable. Their lightest word was a law to him. He wrote up the
log in their presence, stating that Captain Blogg had been washed
into the sea in a sudden squall on a dark night; vessel hove to, boat
lowered, searched for captain all night, could see nothing of him;
mate took charge, and bore away for Hokianga next morning. When
these untruthful particulars had been entered and read over to the
four seamen, they were satisfied for the present. They would settle
among the Maoris, and lead a free and happy life. They could do what
they liked with the schooner and her cargo, having disposed of the
master and owner; and as for the mate, they would dispose of him,
too, if he made himself in any way troublesome. What a wonderful
piece of good luck it was that they were going to a new country in
which there was no government!

The 'Industry' arrived off the bar at Hokianga on November 30th,
1835, and was boarded by a Captain Young, who had settled seven miles
up the estuary, at One Tree Point, and acted as pilot of the nascent
port. He inquired how much water the schooner drew, noted the state
of the tide, and said he would remain on board all night, and go over
the bar next morning with the first flood.