By the new Missionaries all the other old Stations were re-occupied and some fresh Islands were entered upon in the name of Jesus. As we moved about with our _Dayspring_, and planted the Missionaries here and there, nothing could repress the wonder of Natives. “How is this?” they cried; “we slew or drove them all away! We plundered their houses and robbed them. Had we been so treated, nothing would have made us return. But they come back with a beautiful new ship, and with more and more Missionaries. And is it to trade and to get money, like the other white men? No! no! But to tell us of their Jehovah God and of His Son Jesus. If their God makes them do all that, we may well worship Him too.” In this way, island after island was opened up to receive the Missionary, and their Chiefs bound themselves to protect and cherish him, before they knew anything whatever of the Gospel, beyond what they saw in the disposition and character of its Preachers or heard rumoured regarding its fruits on other Islands. Even _Cannibals_ have sometimes been found thus prepared to welcome the Missionary, and to make not only his property but his life comparatively safe. The Isles “wait” for Christ. On our way to Aniwa, the _Dayspring_ had to call at Tanna. By stress of weather we lay several days in Port Resolution. And there many memories were again revived—wounds that after five-and-twenty years, when I now write, still bleed afresh! Nowar, the old Chief, unstable but friendly, was determined to keep us there by force or by fraud. The Captain told him that the council of the Missionaries had forbidden him to land our boxes at Tanna. “Don’t land them,” said the wily Chief; “just throw them over; my men and I will catch everything before it reaches the water, and carry them all safely ashore!” The Captain said he durst not. “Then,” persisted Nowar, “just point them out to us; you will have no further trouble; we will manage everything for Missi.” They were in distress when he refused; and poor old Nowar tried another tack. Suspecting that my dear wife was afraid of them, he got us on shore to see his extensive plantations. Turning eagerly to her, he said, leaving me to interpret,— “Plenty of food! While I have a yam or a banana, you shall not want.” She answered, “I fear not any lack of food.” Pointing to his warriors, he cried, “We are many! We are strong! We can always protect you.” “I am not afraid,” she calmly replied. He then led us to that fig-tree, in the branches of which I had sat during a lonely and memorable night, when all hope had perished of any earthly deliverance, and said to her with a manifest touch of genuine emotion,— “The God who protected Missi there will always protect you.”