It is with peculiar interest that we look upon the spot where the illustrious Cook cast anchor after his discovery of this Bay. Some unhappy quarrels with the natives occasioned much blood to be shed on both sides, and for a long time caused this island to be looked upon with horror, and avoided by all Europeans. It was the courage and enterprise of the crews of our South Sea Whalers who exhibited these interesting islanders in their true character, and proved to the world that it was quite as safe to anchor in the Bay of Islands as in the harbour of Port Jackson. CHAPTER XI. THE MASSACRE OF THE "BOYD." Since the time of Cook, and other circumnavigators of that period, the character of these people has undergone a thorough change. Then it was necessary when a ship anchored, that the boarding nettings should be up, and all the arms ready for immediate use. The principal object the chiefs had in view seemed to be to lull the commanders into a fatal security, then to rush upon them, seize their vessel, and murder all the crew! Too often had they succeeded, and as often have they paid most dearly for their treachery and cruelty. In the case of the ship Boyd, though they attained their object, they were as completely punished for their perfidy. From their ignorance of the nature of powder, and the use of a magazine, they blew up the ship, and vast numbers of the natives were destroyed. Besides this calamity, they brought down upon themselves the vengeance of every vessel that visited these shores for a long period afterwards. As the circumstances may not be generally known, Mr. Berry's letter, relating the particulars of that melancholy, yet interesting event, is here inserted:-- "Ship, City of Edinburgh, "Lima, Oct. 20, 1810. Sir,-- I am very sorry to have the painful task of introducing myself to you, with an account of the loss of your ship Boyd, Captain Thompson. Towards the end of last year I was employed in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, in procuring a cargo of spars for the Cape of Good Hope. About the middle of December the natives brought me an account of a ship's being taken at Whangaroa, a harbour about fifty miles to the N.W. At first we were disposed to doubt the truth of this report, but it every day became more probable, from the variety of circumstances they informed us of; and which were so connected as appeared impossible for them to invent. Accordingly, about the end of the month, when we had finished our cargo, although it was a business of some danger, I determined to go round.