And now we put for the open sea. When the hostage was aware of it he gave a shriek and started to jump overboard. Lakeum and Silva grabbed him, and he was soon in the place reserved for men who are put in irons. The crew were excited and almost mutinous, for they had a double grievance: they felt that they were to be deprived of shore leave and that the poor hostage was to be carried away as a captive. The whole matter was soon explained. Now that the trading was over the captain feared that the hostage, if not restrained, would jump overboard and swim ashore, and he wanted to retain him until after the men had had shore leave on the following day. The vessel was merely to move about on short tacks during the night. The morning was one of the loveliest I ever saw. The sun rose without a cloud, and the water seemed tinged with gold. The Kanaka and three other men declined the general invitation to go ashore and they and the captain served as shipkeepers. The Kanaka said, with great emphasis, “Me stay here; dey get no chance to eat me.” Most of the crew had articles or trinkets, and I took with me about a third of the cotton cloth my father had given me. The captain said that, if the women and children were gathered on the beach, there was little to fear. On our arrival there they were, and the only man with them was Pete Ellyon. Just up the beach was rich, thick foliage, and an apparently dense forest beyond. I heard Kreelman say, “This looks kind of suspicious. That vile beach comber is the only man here, and it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a gang of natives up there in the bushes.” The women were fine-looking, wholesome creatures and, when they smiled, they showed beautiful, dazzling teeth. The boys and girls seemed rather shy at first; they were well-shaped and pictures of health. There was a remarkable display of articles for trade—necklaces and bracelets made from richly tinted shells joined together by a kind of thread about like silk and made, I suppose, from some plant or vine, and an abundance of other fancy articles which one would think beyond the conception of savages. However, these people were plainly superior to the ordinary South Sea islanders. There were beautiful little mats and baskets made of tapa, which is the bark of the paper mulberry, and there was a lot of clubs, spears and paddles with wonderful carvings made with sharks’ teeth or bits of shells. As the trading went on, Ellyon was particularly pleasant and gracious. He would say, “Don’t let them cheat you;” “Offer the woman half as much cloth as she asks for”; “These young ones round here are regular thieves; look out for ’em.” At first I wondered why this change from yesterday and then began to suspect that he had some sinister purpose. When the business was over, I was no longer the possessor of the cotton cloth, but rejoiced in the ownership of a number of articles which I proposed to take home to my mother, and of a spear, a paddle and a club,