When a "King's ship" comes to anchor, the chiefs (with all the glee of children going to a fair) collect together their wives, children, and friends, and pay a visit to the "fighting ships," to see King George's warriors (as they call them): when they come alongside they are kept off by an armed sentry; and, after a long parley, they are informed the chief may come, but his family and friends must not. In this case, the natives generally spit at the vessel, and, uttering execrations on their inhospitality, return on shore. One of the savage chieftains who accompanied us to the vessel in question, on our way back remarked, "that the white warriors were _afraid_ of admitting them, though they were unarmed and but a few; while the warriors in the ships were many, and armed with their great guns." Living entirely amongst these people so long as I had done, I felt the absurdity of such conduct, and the folly of treating them so harshly. If ever individuals are so situated as to need either the esteem or the confidence of savages, they must bear with their prying and childish curiosity, and not be afraid of treating them too kindly; by this means they become the quietest and gentlest creatures in the world; but, if treated with contumely, and their wives and families repulsed from your ship, they become dangerous, vindictive, and cruel neighbours, as many a dreadful deed which has taken place in this vicinity will fully prove. CHAPTER XXXVII. THE WHALERS AND THE MISSIONARIES.