They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a distance, but growing more and more emboldened at seeing her quiet and lifeless.  One man at length made his appearance on the deck, and was recognized by the interpreter as Mr. Lewis.  He made friendly signs, and invited them on board.  It was long before they ventured to comply.  Those who mounted the deck met with no opposition; no one was to be seen on board; for Mr. Lewis, after inviting them, had disappeared.  Other canoes now pressed forward to board the prize; the decks were soon crowded, and the sides covered with clambering savages, all intent on plunder.  In the midst of their eagerness and exultation, the ship blew up with a tremendous explosion.  Arms, legs, and mutilated bodies were blown into the air, and dreadful havoc was made in the surrounding canoes.  The interpreter was in the main-chains at the time of the explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where he succeeded in getting into one of the canoes.  According to his statement, the bay presented an awful spectacle after the catastrophe.  The ship had disappeared, but the bay was covered with fragments of the wreck, with shattered canoes, and Indians swimming for their lives, or struggling in the agonies of death; while those who had escaped the danger remained aghast and stupefied, or made with frantic panic for the shore.  Upwards of a hundred savages were destroyed by the explosion, many more were shockingly mutilated, and for days afterwards the limbs and bodies of the slain were thrown upon the beach.

The inhabitants of Neweetee were overwhelmed with consternation at this astounding calamity, which had burst upon them in the very moment of triumph.  The warriors sat mute and mournful, while the women filled the air with loud lamentations.  Their weeping and walling, however, was suddenly changed into yells of fury at the sight of four unfortunate white men, brought captive into the village.  They had been driven on shore in one of the ship’s boats, and taken at some distance along the coast.

The interpreter was permitted to converse with them.  They proved to be the four brave fellows who had made such desperate defense from the cabin.  The interpreter gathered from them some of the particulars already related.  They told him further, that after they had beaten off the enemy and cleared the ship, Lewis advised that they should slip the cable and endeavor to get to sea.  They declined to take his advice, alleging that the wind set too strongly into the bay and would drive them on shore.  They resolved, as soon as it was dark, to put off quietly in the ship’s boat, which they would be able to do unperceived, and to coast along back to Astoria.  They put their resolution into effect; but Lewis refused to accompany them, being disabled by his wound, hopeless of escape, and determined on a terrible revenge.  On the voyage out, he had repeatedly expressed a presentiment that he should die by his own hands; thinking it highly