The ships returned to Johanna, where the greatest tenderness and care was shown for the recovery and cure of the two captains and of their men; they lay six weeks before they were able to walk the decks, for neither of them would quit his ship. Their Johanna wives expressed a concern they did not think them capable of; nay, a wife of one of the wounded men who died, stood some time looking upon the corpse as motionless as a statue, then embracing it, without shedding a tear, desired she might take it ashore to wash and bury it; and at the same time by an interpreter, and with a little mixture of European language, begged her late husband’s friends would take their leave of him the next day. Accordingly a number went ashore, and carried with them the dividend, which fell to his share, which the captain ordered to be given to his widow; when she saw the money, she smiled, and asked if all that was for her?—Being answered in the affirmative, “and what good will all that shining dirt do me? If I could with it purchase the life of my husband, and call him back from the grave, I would accept it with pleasure, but as it is not sufficient to allure him back to this world, I have no use for it; do with it what you please.” Then she desired they would go with her and perform the last ceremonies to her husband’s dead body, after their country fashion, lest he should be displeased; that she could not stay with them, to be a witness, because she was in haste to go and be married again. She startled the Europeans who heard this latter part of her speech, so dissonant from the beginning; however they followed her, and she led them into a plantain walk, where they found a great many Johanna men and women, sitting under the shade of plantains, round the corpse, which lay (as they all sat) on the ground, covered with flowers. She embraced them round, and then the Europeans, one by one, and after these ceremonies, she poured out a number of bitter imprecations against the Mohila men, whose treachery had darkened her husband’s eyes, and made him insensible of her caresses, who was her first love, to whom she had given her heart with her virginity. She then proceeded in his praises, calling him the joy of infants, the love of virgins, the delight of the old, and the wonder of the young, adding, he was strong and beautiful as the cedar, brave as the bull, tender as the kid, and loving as the ground turtle. Having finished this oration, not unlike those of the Romans, which the nearest relation of the deceased used to pronounce from the rostrum, she laid down by the side of her husband, embracing him, and sitting up again, gave herself a deep wound under the left breast with a bayonet, and fell dead on her husband’s corpse.