After dinner, a messenger announced that a little later hosts and guests would meet in the open space just in front of the houses, which constituted what they called the town. Our little party was there early, and a pleasant thing it was to see the people gather; an islander, for example, coming with three or four of our men, all talking and laughing, and making one feel that he would like to exchange the trials and turmoil and temptations of the world for the sweet rest and quiet of this little island. Our hosts entertained us with songs, concluding with the National Anthem which was rendered with fine effect. Then our captain whispered to Lakeum, who in chosen words expressed our gratitude for the hospitality rendered and wished the colony abundant blessings and especially happiness and prosperity. I think we were all proud of Lakeum, and we were fortunate to have him as our spokesman, as he was the only one of our company who was capable of creditably expressing himself. The leave-takings were reserved for the place where we had landed, and a happy throng we were as we strolled along to the shore. If some difficulty attended our landing, more awaited our departure. Ours was the first craft to confront the surf and, staunch old whaleboat as it was on the open sea, it was unequal to the situation, for over it went, tumbling us all into the water. A loud laugh went up from the spectators, and several of the islanders plunged into the sea to help us. We righted the boat and, under the directions of our friends, mounted the crests successfully, and the other boats followed us. But something else followed us as well—the kindly adieus of the Pitcairners. The next day liberty was given the shipkeepers, and the captain, Lakeum and Silva went ashore with them, carrying trade to be exchanged for supplies. We were notified that the bargaining would take a good part of the day, and that on the appearance of the white flag we were to lower the boats and make for the shore. About the middle of the afternoon, the signal appeared, and three boats put out. As we rested on our oars at a spot about a hundred yards from the beach, we witnessed the storing in the native dugouts of pigs, goats, fowl, fruit and vegetables, which were to be transferred to our craft. The islanders were so apt and clever that the transfer was easily effected, and as we pulled for the ship I saw Sarah for the last time. She was standing on a bank waving her hand, and Russell was beside her. He joined with a parting gesture. I experienced a feeling like that which distressed me when the _Seabird_ slipped from her moorings at the beginning of the voyage. It was a touch of homesickness.