On the 17th Feb. when night came, the watch was set consisting of two men, whose duty it was to guard against the thefts of the natives. At about 10 P. M. all hands were awakened by the cry; "The ship has gone, the ship has gone!" Every one hastened to the beach and verified the truth of the report for themselves. Some who were ignorant of the intention of Smith and others, to take the ship, were of opinion that the strong breeze then blowing, had caused her to drag her anchor, and that she would return in the morning. The morning came, but nothing was to be seen upon the broad expanse of ocean, save here and there a solitary seagull, perched upon the crested billow. Payne in a paroxism of rage, vented the most dreadful imprecations; swearing that could he get them once more in his power, he would put them to instant death. Not so with us; a ray of hope shot through our minds, that this circumstance might be the means of rescuing us from our lonely situation.--The writers of this narrative were upon the most intimate terms, and frequently, though carefully, sympathized with each other upon their forlorn situation. We dare not communicate our disaffection to the Government of the two surviving mutineers, (Payne and Oliver,) to the others, fearing they might not agree with us in opinion, and we had too good reason to believe, that there was _one_, who although unstained by blood, yet from his conduct, seemed to sanction the proceedings of the mutineers. The natives assembled in great numbers around the tent, expressing great surprise at the ship's having left,--Payne gave them to understand that the wind had forced her to sea, and that from her want of sails, rigging, &c. she must be lost, and would never return.--The natives received the assurance with satisfaction, but it was evident, Payne apprehended her safe arrival at some port, and his own punishment; for we were immediately set to work, to tear one boat to pieces, for the purpose of raising upon another, which was to have _a deck_; Payne, alleging as a reason for this, that the natives might compel us to leave the Island. We leave the reader to judge, however, of his motives, while we proceed to give an account of what actually did transpire. The natives in considerable numbers continued to attend us, and while the work was progressing, exhibited a great deal of curiosity. Their deportment towards us continued to be of the most friendly nature, continuing to barter with us, giving us bread fruit, cocoanuts, &c. for which they received in return, pieces of iron hoop, nails, and such articles as we could conveniently spare. The small Islands of this groupe are frequently only separated by what are sometimes denominated causeways, or in other words, connected by reefs of coral, extending from the extreme point of one Island and connecting it with another. These reefs are nearly dry at low water, and the communication is easily kept up between them by the natives on foot.