natives, who have been kidnapped, plundered, and murdered by unscrupulous traders and adventurers.  Unfortunately, the good suffer for the bad, and such lives as those of Captain Goodenough and Bishop Patteson are sacrificed through the unpardonable misconduct of others—­perhaps their own countrymen.  It is still quite a chance how you may be received in some of the islands; for if the visit of the last ship was the occasion of the murder, plunder, and ill-treatment of the inhabitants, it is not to be wondered at that the next comers should be received with distrust, if not with treachery and violence.

We reached the yacht at four o’clock, rather exhausted by so many hours’ exposure to the broiling sun, having had nothing to eat since breakfast, at 7 a.m., except cocoa-nuts and bananas.  The ship was put about, the sails filled, and, continuing steadily on our course throughout the evening, we made the smaller of the two peninsulas that form the island of Tahiti at 10.30 p.m.

Saturday, December 2nd.  We were dodging on and off all night, and at daybreak the weather was thick and rainy.  At 4.30 a.m. we made the land again, and crept slowly along it, past Point Venus and the lighthouse in Matavai Bay (Captain Cook’s first anchorage), until we were off the harbour of Papeete.[8] The rain was now descending in torrents, and we lay-to outside the reef for a short time, until a French pilot came on board and took us in through the narrow entrance.  It was curious, while we were tumbling about in the rough sea outside, to see the natives placidly fishing in the tiniest of canoes on the lagoon inside the reef, the waves beating all the time furiously on the outer surface of the coral breakwater, as if anxious to seize and engulf them.

[Footnote 8:  ‘Papiete’ or ‘Papeete,’ a bag of water.]

At nine o’clock we were safely anchored in the chief port of the island of Tahiti.

Perhaps I cannot better bring this account of our long voyage from Valparaiso to a conclusion than by a quotation from a charming book, given to me at Rio, which I have lately been reading Baron de Hubner’s ’Promenade autour du Monde:’—­’Les jours se suivent et se ressemblent.  Sauf le court episode du mauvais temps, ces trois semaines me font l’effet d’un charmant reve, d’un conte de fee, d’une promenade imaginaire a travers une salle immense, tout or et lapis-lazuli.  Pas un moment d’ennui ou d’impatience.  Si vous voulez abreger les longueurs d’une grande traversee, distribuez bien votre temps, et observez le reglement que vous vous etes impose.  C’est un moyen sur de se faire promptement a la vie claustrale et meme d’en jouir.’

We have been five weeks at sea, and have enjoyed them quite as much as the Baron did his three.  We saw but two ships between Valparaiso and Tatakotoroa:  he saw only one between San Francisco and Yokohama.  It is indeed a vast and lonely ocean that we have traversed.