We coasted along the island in the direction in which I conceived the Dutch settlement to lie, and next day, about two o’clock, I came to a grapnel in a small sandy bay, where we saw a hut, a dog, and some cattle.  Here I learned that the Dutch governor resided at a place called Coupang, which was some distance to the north-east.  I made signs for one of the Indians who came to the beach to go in the boat and show us the way to Coupang, intimating that I would pay him for his trouble; the man readily complied, and came into the boat.  The Indians, who were of a dark tawny color, brought us a few pieces of dried turtle and some ears of Indian corn.  This last was the most welcome, for the turtle was so hard, that it could not be eaten without being first soaked in hot water.  They offered to bring us some other refreshments, if I would wait; but, as the pilot was willing, I determined to push on.  It was about half-past four when we sailed.

Sunday, 14th.—­At one o’clock in the morning, after the most happy and sweet sleep that ever men enjoyed, we weighed, and continued to keep the east shore on board, in very smooth water.  The report of two cannon that were fired gave new life to every one; and soon after, we discovered two square-rigged vessels and a cutter at anchor to the eastward.  After hard rowing, we came to a grapnel near daylight, off a small fort and town, which the pilot told me was Coupang.

On landing, I was surrounded by many people, Indians and Dutch, with an English sailor among them.  A Dutch captain, named Spikerman, showed me great kindness, and waited on the governor, who was ill, to know at what time I could see him.  Eleven o’clock having been appointed for the interview, I desired my people to come on shore, which was as much as some of them could do, being scarce able to walk; they, however, were helped to Captain Spikerman’s house, and found tea, with bread and butter, provided for their breakfast.

The abilities of a painter, perhaps, could seldom have been displayed to more advantage than in the delineation of the two groups of figures which at this time presented themselves to each other.  An indifferent spectator would have been at a loss which most to admire—­the eyes of famine sparkling at immediate relief, or the horror of their preservers at the sight of so many spectres, whose ghastly countenances, if the cause had been unknown, would rather have excited terror than pity.  Our bodies were nothing but skin and bone, our limbs were full of sores, and we were clothed in rags:  in this condition, with tears of joy and gratitude flowing down our cheeks, the people of Timor beheld us with a mixture of horror, surprise, and pity.

The governor, Mr. William Adrian Van Este, notwithstanding extreme ill health, became so anxious about us, that I saw him before the appointed time.  He received me with great affection, and gave me the fullest proofs that he was possessed of every feeling of a humane and good man.  Though his infirmity was so great that he could not do the office of a friend himself, he said he would give such orders as I might be certain would procure us every supply we wanted.  A house should be immediately prepared for me, and with respect to my people, he said that I might have room for them either at the hospital or on board of Captain Spikerman’s ship, which lay in the road. . . .