dry—only it was pencil—when a man rode up waving a note from Mr. Edmunds, and shouting, “A ship!—a ship!” The previous afternoon, as the Kanakas were assembling in the village to go up to Mataveri, the _Baquedano_ had been sighted, and four of the ringleaders were now in irons. I scarcely knew how great had been the long strain till the relief came. Our rejoicings, however, we found to have been partly premature. The warship had unfortunately brought with her large gifts of clothes for the natives from well-wishers in Chile. Some little while before attention had been drawn to the inhabitants of Easter, by an Australian captain who had touched there on his homeward voyage. The natives had, as usual, come off to his ship in their oldest garments; he had been impressed with their ragged condition and made a collection of clothes for them in Australia amounting to many bales, but on his next voyage to Chile he had been unable to touch again at the island and had left them at Valparaiso. We had been asked to bring these bales, but had declined on the score of space.[16] The Chileans disliked the idea of their protectorate being indebted to strangers, made a collection on their own account, and despatched them by the _Baquedano_. It seemed unthinkable that people, every one of whom for weeks had been consuming stolen goods, and who, two days before, had been on the verge of murder, should be immediately presented officially with the commodity they most prized. I therefore went on board the _Baquedano_, saw the Captain, and ventured to request that the goods should be handed over to us, promising personally to visit every house before our departure, ascertain the needs of the people, and distribute the articles. “Surely,” he said, “you shall have them.” Within a few hours they had been distributed by his officers on the beach. Some of the garments were useful, but an assortment of ball-slippers seemed a little out of place, and the greater part of the community, men and women, blossomed out into washing waistcoats. The stolen sheepskins, or some of them, were returned, but three of the four ringleaders were set at liberty, and no corporate punishment was inflicted; indeed, the Captain had told me he considered that the natives had “behaved very well not to murder Mr. Edmunds” prior to our arrival. Before the ship left the island, the Captain wrote officially to the “Head of the British Scientific Expedition” to the effect, that the action he had been obliged to take to restore order would probably have the result of rousing more feeling against foreigners; he therefore could not guarantee our safety and offered us passages to Chile—an offer which, needless to say, we declined. So ended the Revolution; we felt with interest that the confidence of the Prophetess had been justified, at any rate as far as 249 Kanakas were concerned out of the 250.