In the course of the day we passed the Bice Islands, and two days later, on the 25th of April, we beheld one of the Society Islands, Maithia.

On the following morning, being the thirty-ninth of our voyage, we came in sight of Tahiti, and the island opposite to it, Emao, also called Moreo.  The entrance into Papeiti, the port of Tahiti, is exceedingly dangerous; it is surrounded by reefs of coral as by a fortress, while wild and foaming breakers, rolling on every side, leave but a small place open through which a vessel can steer.

A pilot came out to meet us, and, although the wind was so unfavourable that the sails had to be trimmed every instant, steered us safely into port.  Afterwards, when we had landed, we were congratulated heartily on our good fortune; every one had watched our course with the greatest anxiety, and, at the last turn the ship took, expected to see her strike upon a coral reef.  This misfortune had happened to a French man-of-war, that at the period of our arrival had been lying at anchor for some months, engaged in repairing the damage done.

Before we could come to an anchor we were surrounded by half-a-dozen pirogues, or boats, manned by Indians, who climbed up from all sides upon the deck to offer us fruit and shell-fish, but not as formerly for red rags or glass beads—­such golden times for travellers are over.  They demanded money, and were as grasping and cunning in their dealings as the most civilized Europeans.  I offered one of them a small bronze ring; he took it, smelt it, shook his head, and gave me to understand that it was not gold.  He remarked another ring on my finger, and seizing hold of my hand, smelt this second ring as well, then twisted his face into a friendly smile, and made signs for me to give him the ornament in question.  I afterwards had frequent opportunities of remarking that the natives of these islands have the power of distinguishing between pure and counterfeit gold by the smell.

Some years ago the island of Tahiti was under the protection of the English, but at present it is under that of the French.  It had long been a subject of dispute between the two nations, until a friendly understanding was at last come to in November, 1846.  Queen Pomare, who had fled to another island, had returned to Papeiti five weeks before my arrival.  She resides in a four-roomed house, and dines daily, with her family, at the governor’s table.  The French government is having a handsome house built for her use, and allows her a pension of 25,000 francs per annum (1 pounds,041 13s. 4d.).  No stranger is allowed to visit her without the governor’s permission, but this is easily obtained.

Papeiti was full of French troops, and several men-of-war were lying at anchor.

The place contains three or four thousand inhabitants, and consists of a row of small wooden houses, skirting the harbour, and separated by small gardens.  In the immediate background is a fine wood, with a number of huts scattered about in different parts of it.