Thus he firmly declined the offer of a passage back in the Eliza Adams, which our captain secured for all the Kanakas; preferring to be landed at the Bluff, with the goodly sum of money to which he was entitled, saying that he had important business to transact in Sydney before he returned.  This business, he privately informed me, was the procuring of arms and ammunition wherewith to make war upon his rival.  Of course we could not prevent him, although it did seem an abominable thing to let loose the spirit of slaughter among those light-hearted natives just to satisfy the ambition of an unscrupulous negro.  But, as I have before noticed, from information received many years after I learned that he had been successful in his efforts, though at what cost to life I do not know.

So our dusky friends left us, with a good word from every one, and went on board the Eliza Adams, whose captain promised to land them at Futuna, within six months.  How he carried out his promise, I do not know; but, for the poor fellows’ sakes, I trust he kept his word.

*

CHAPTER XXVIII

TO THE BLUFF, AND HOME

And now the cruise of the good old whaling barque cachalot, as far as whaling is concerned, comes to an end.  For all practical purposes she becomes a humdrum merchantman in haste to reach her final port of discharge, and get rid of her cargo.  No more will she loiter and pry around anything and everything, from an island to a balk of drift-wood, that comes in her way, knowing not the meaning of “waste of time.”  The “crow’s-nests” are dismantled, taut topgallant-masts sent up, and royal yards crossed.  As soon as we get to sea we shall turn-to and heave that ancient fabric of bricks and mortar—­always a queer-looking erection to be cumbering a ship’s deck—­piecemeal over the side.  It has long been shaky and weather-beaten; it will soon obstruct our movements no more.  Our rigging has all been set up and tarred down; we have painted hull and spars, and scraped wherever the wood-work is kept bright.  All gear belonging to whaling has been taken out of the boats, carefully cleaned, oiled, and stowed away for a “full due.”  Two of the boats have been taken inboard, and stowed bottom-up upon the gallows aft, as any other merchantman carries them.  At last, our multifarious preparations completed, we ride ready for sea.

It was quite in accordance with the fitness of things that, when all things were now ready for our departure, there should come a change of wind that threatened to hold us prisoners for some days longer.  But our “old man” was hard to beat, and he reckoned that, if we could only get out of the “pond,” he would work her across to the Bluff somehow or other.  So we ran out a kedge with a couple of lines to it, and warped her out of the weather side of the harbour, finding, when at last we got her clear, that she would lay her course across the Straits to clear Ruapuke—­nearly; but the current had to be reckoned with.  Before we reached that obstructing island we were down at the eastern end of it, and obliged to anchor promptly to save ourselves from being swept down the coast many miles to leeward of our port.