One of the canoes carried seven, and the other eight men, and they were managed with small paddles, whose blades were nearly round.  Each of them had a pretty long outrigger; and they sometimes paddled, with the two opposite sides together so close, that they seemed to be one boat with two outriggers, the rowers turning their faces occasionally to the stern, and pulling that way, without paddling the canoes round.  When they saw us determined to leave them, they stood up in their canoes, and repeated something very loudly in concert, but we could not tell whether this was meant as a mark of their friendship or enmity.  It is certain, however, that they had no weapons with them, nor could we perceive with our glasses that those on shore had any.[2]

[Footnote 2:  This is the island on which Fletcher Christian, chief mutineer of the Bounty, attempted to form a settlement in 1789, as we shall have occasion to notice when treating of another voyage.—­E.]

After leaving this island, from the discovery of which future navigators may possibly derive some advantage, I steered to the N. with a fresh gale at E. by S., and, at day-break in the morning of the 12th, we saw the island of Maitea.  Soon after, Otaheite made its appearance; and at noon, it extended from S.W. by W. to W.N.W.; the point of Oheitepeha bay bearing W., about four leagues distant.  I steered for this bay, intending to anchor there, in order to draw what refreshments I could from the S.E. part of the island, before I went down to Matavai, from the neighbourhood of which station I expected my principal supply.  We had a fresh gale easterly, till two o’clock in the afternoon, when, being about a league from the bay, the wind suddenly died away, and was succeeded by baffling light airs from every direction, and calms by turns.  This lasted about two hours.  Then we had sudden squalls, with rain, from the E. These carried us before the bay, where we got a breeze from the land, and attempted in vain to work in to gain the anchoring-place.  So that at last about nine o’clock, we were obliged to stand out, and to spend the night at sea.

When we first drew near the island, several canoes came off to the ship, each conducted by two or three men; but, as they were common fellows, Omai took no particular notice of them, nor they of him.  They did not even seem to perceive that he was one of their countrymen, although they conversed with him for some time.  At length, a chief whom I had known before, named Ootee, and Omai’s brother-in-law, who chanced to be now at this corner of the island, and three or four more persons, all of whom knew Omai before he embarked with Captain Furneaux, came on board.  Yet there was nothing either tender or striking in their meeting.  On the contrary, there seemed to be a perfect indifference on both sides, till Omai, having taken his brother down into the cabin, opened the drawer where he kept his red feathers, and gave him a few.  This being presently known