'Now, men, as we are just off a six months' cruise, and have got
through most all our work in port here, I suppose you want to go
ashore. Well, I mean to give your watch liberty today, so you
may get ready as soon all you please, and go; but understand
this, I am going to give you liberty because I suppose you would
growl like so many old quarter gunners if I didn't; at the same
time, if you'll take my advice, every mother's son of you will
stay aboard and keep out of the way of the bloody cannibals
altogether. Ten to one, men, if you go ashore, you will get into
some infernal row, and that will be the end of you; for if those
tattooed scoundrels get you a little ways back into their
valleys, they'll nab you--that you may be certain of. Plenty of
white men have gone ashore here and never been seen any more.
There was the old Dido, she put in here about two years ago, and
sent one watch off on liberty; they never were heard of again for
a week--the natives swore they didn't know where they were--and
only three of them ever got back to the ship again, and one with
his face damaged for life, for the cursed heathens tattooed a
broad patch clean across his figure-head. But it will be no use
talking to you, for go you will, that I see plainly; so all I
have to say is, that you need not blame me if the islanders make
a meal of you. You may stand some chance of escaping them
though, if you keep close about the French encampment,--and are
back to the ship again before sunset. Keep that much in your
mind, if you forget all the rest I've been saying to you. There,
go forward: bear a hand and rig yourselves, and stand by for a
call. At two bells the boat will be manned to take you off, and
the Lord have mercy on you!'