The reader may rest assured that this news did not tend to allay our fears in the least, yet each one seemed determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. No undue excitement was exhibited; each one was calm, cool, collected, for we knew the first symptom of fear betrayed would be the signal for the work of destruction to commence. Quietly were all the muskets loaded, and our harpoons, lances, boat-hatchets, and other weapons made ready, so that they could be seized should occasion require. Fifteen or twenty minutes of the most intense anxiety to all hands passed, each one hoping something would transpire to cause the natives to leave. The ships were headed off the land, and sail made; still they did not appear inclined to leave, but sat in groups around the deck, intently watching every movement that was made, and earnestly conversing with each other, eying the cutting-spades which hung over the quarter-deck, and evidently longing for some one to commence the fracas. At length a happy thought suggested itself to one of our men. Mounting aloft, he remained a few moments at masthead. Gazing, with great interest apparently, at some object in the far distance, he sang out, with a loud, ringing, joyous voice, “_Sail ho!_ A LARGE MAN-OF-WAR COMING DOWN FROM THE WINDWARD UNDER FULL SAIL!” This was sufficient. The natives waited not to hear this repeated, but clambered over the side in the greatest hurry and confusion. Each one seemingly endeavored to be first, and in a few moments our decks were perfectly free from them. As the last native left the ship, one thrilling, deafening hurrah went up from all on board. This was caught up on board the “Roscoe,” and returned with a hearty “three times three.” We congratulated ourselves on our narrow escape from these merciless savages, and could not but feel thankful to Almighty God for his providence in thus rescuing us. It would have been but a short battle had it commenced. As we have before remarked, the natives of this island are very powerful and robust; and their mode of warfare would have been to have seized the crew and thrown them overboard, while those in the canoes would have held the victims under the surface till they were drowned. Although the man who sang out “Sail ho!” from the masthead did not expect to see one when he started to go aloft, yet he did see a sail, which soon came down to us; and, although not a man-of-war, yet we were none the less pleased to see her. It proved to be the whale-ship “Hannibal,” of New London, Captain Lester.