One of the native teachers
went with them, for the purpose of visiting still more distant islands
of the sea, and spreading, if possible, the light of the glorious
Gospel there.
As the missionary intended to remain for several weeks longer, in order
to encourage and confirm his new converts, Jack and Peterkin and I held
a consultation in the cabin of our schooner--which we found just as we
had left her, for everything that had been taken out of her was
restored. We now resolved to delay our departure no longer. The desire
to see our beloved native land was strong upon us, and we could not
wait.
Three natives volunteered to go with us to Tahiti, where we thought it
likely that we should be able to procure a sufficient crew of sailors
to man our vessel, so we accepted their offer gladly.
It was a bright, clear morning when we hoisted the snow-white sails of
the pirate schooner and left the shores of Mango. The missionary and
thousands of the natives came down to bid us God-speed, and to see us
sail away. As the vessel bent before a light, fair wind, we glided
quickly over the lagoon under a cloud of canvas.
Just as we passed through the channel in the reef the natives gave us a
loud cheer; and as the missionary waved his hat, while he stood on a
coral rock with his grey hairs floating in the wind, we heard the
single word "Farewell" borne faintly over the sea.
That night, as we sat on the taffrail gazing out upon the wide sea and
up into the starry firmament, a thrill of joy, strangely mixed with
sadness, passed through our hearts; for we were at length "homeward
bound," and were gradually leaving far behind us the beautiful, bright
green coral islands of the Pacific Ocean.
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