We now approach a change of affairs. One day during a gleam of
sunshine, and when the weather had moderated, the man at the
masthead - too weak now to touch his hat, besides its having been
blown away - called out,

'Savages!'

All was now expectation.

Presently fifteen hundred canoes, each paddled by twenty savages,
were seen advancing in excellent order. They were of a light green
colour (the savages were), and sang, with great energy, the
following strain:


Choo a choo a choo tooth.
Muntch, muntch. Nycey!
Choo a choo a choo tooth.
Muntch, muntch. Nycey!


As the shades of night were by this time closing in, these
expressions were supposed to embody this simple people's views of
the evening hymn. But it too soon appeared that the song was a
translation of 'For what we are going to receive,' &c.

The chief, imposingly decorated with feathers of lively colours,
and having the majestic appearance of a fighting parrot, no sooner
understood (he understood English perfectly) that the ship was 'The