"
We could scarcely credit our senses. So long had we been accustomed in
our cavern to dream of deliverance, that we imagined for a moment this
must surely be nothing more than another vivid dream. Our eyes and
minds were dazzled, too, by the brilliant sunshine, which almost
blinded us after our long confinement to the gloom of our prison, so
that we felt giddy with the variety of conflicting emotions that filled
our throbbing bosoms; but as we followed the footsteps of our sable
friend, and beheld the bright foliage of the trees, and heard the cries
of the paroquets, and smelt the rich perfume of the flowering shrubs,
the truth, that we were really delivered from prison and from death,
rushed with overwhelming power into our souls, and with one accord,
while tears sprang to our eyes, we uttered a loud, long cheer of joy.
It was replied to by a shout from a number of the natives who chanced
to be near. Running towards us, they shook us by the hand with every
demonstration of kindly feeling. They then fell behind, and forming a
sort of procession, conducted us to the dwelling of Tararo.
The scene that met our eyes here was one that I shall never forget. On
a rude bench in front of his house sat the chief. A native stood on his
left hand, who from his dress seemed to be a teacher. On his right
stood an English gentleman, who I at once and rightly concluded was a
missionary. He was tall, thin, and apparently past forty, with a bald
forehead and thin grey hair.
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