Having approached as near the land as we could prudently, our headway
was stopped, and we awaited the arrival of a canoe which was coming
out of the bay. All at once we got into a strong current, which swept
us rapidly toward a rocky promontory forming one side of the harbour.
The wind had died away; so two boats were at once lowered for the
purpose of pulling the ship's head round. Before this could be done,
the eddies were whirling upon all sides, and the rock so near that it
seemed as if one might leap upon it from the masthead. Notwithstanding
the speechless fright of the captain, and the hoarse shouts of the
unappalled Jennin, the men handled the ropes as deliberately as
possible, some of them chuckling at the prospect of going ashore, and
others so eager for the vessel to strike, that they could hardly
contain themselves. Unexpectedly a countercurrent befriended us, and
assisted by the boats we were soon out of danger.

What a disappointment for our crew! All their little plans for
swimming ashore from the wreck, and having a fine time of it for the
rest of their days, thus cruelly nipped in the bud.

Soon after, the canoe came alongside. In it were eight or ten natives,
comely, vivacious-looking youths, all gesture and exclamation; the
red feathers in their head-bands perpetually nodding. With them also
came a stranger, a renegade from Christendom and humanity--a white
man, in the South Sea girdle, and tattooed in the face. A broad blue
band stretched across his face from ear to ear, and on his forehead
was the taper figure of a blue shark, nothing but fins from head to
tail.

Some of us gazed upon this man with a feeling akin to horror, no ways
abated when informed that he had voluntarily submitted to this