Mr Burney, who was sent by Captain Furneaux the next day, with an armed party, to look for his missing people, upon discovering the horrid proofs of their shocking fate, had fired several vollies amongst the crowds of natives who still remained assembled on the spot, and were probably partaking of the detestable banquet.  It was natural to suppose that he had not fired in vain; and that, therefore, some of the murderers and devourers of our unhappy countrymen had suffered under our just resentment.  Upon enquiry, however, into this matter, not only from Kahoora, but from others who had opportunities of knowing, it appeared that our supposition was groundless, and that not one of the shot fired by Mr Burney’s people had taken effect, so as to kill, or even to hurt, a single person.[143]

[Footnote 143:  Mr Burney was not warranted in firing.  It was not possible for him, at the time, to know whether or not his comrades had been justly punished for aggressions on the savages.  He acted, therefore, from the impulse of blind revenge.  But such a motive, though natural enough it may be, must, nevertheless, be condemned by every law recognised among civilized nations.  Even his observing these people engaged in feasting on the victims of their fury, much indeed as it would necessarily augment his abhorrence, could not be allowed a sufficient plea for his attacking them; because the principles which ought to govern the conduct of a member of such a society as he belonged to, are indiscriminately imperative in their nature, and do not allow any latitude of dispensation to an individual.  The only thing that warrants the violation of them, is the necessity imposed by a still higher law,—­that of preserving his own existence.  But, in the present instance, it does not appear that he was in any danger.—­E.]

It was evident, that most of the natives we had met with since our arrival, as they knew I was fully acquainted with the history of the massacre, expected I should avenge it with the death of Kahoora.  And many of them seemed not only to wish it, but expressed their surprise at my forbearance.  As he could not be ignorant of this, it was a matter of wonder to me that he put himself so often in my power.  When he visited us while the ships lay in the cove, confiding in the number of his friends that accompanied him, he might think himself safe; but his two last visits had been made under such circumstances, that he could no longer rely upon this.  We were then at anchor in the entrance of the sound, and at some distance from any shore; so that he could not have any assistance from thence, nor flatter himself he could have the means of making his escape, had I determined to detain him.  And yet, after his first fears, on being interrogated, were over, he was so far from entertaining any uneasy sensations, that, on seeing a portrait of one of his countrymen hanging up in the cabin, he desired to have his own portrait drawn; and sat till