had passed in a boat, on his return from Rose Hill, near the place where they were standing; and that finding he would not come to them, although they had called to him to do so, they had at once determined to venture themselves unreservedly among us.  One of the men in the canoe was the person to whom I was to give the hatchet I had been to fetch; and directly as he saw me, he held up his spear, and the exchange took place, with which, and perhaps to reward me for the trouble I had taken, he was so delighted that he presented me with a throwing-stick ‘gratis’.

Not seeing Barangaroo of the party, I asked for her, and was informed that she had violently opposed Baneelon’s departure.  When she found persuasion vain, she had recourse to tears, scolding, and threats, stamping the ground, and tearing her hair.  But Baneelon continuing determined, she snatched up in her rage one of his fish-gigs, and dashed it with such fury on the rocks, that it broke.  To quiet her apprehensions on the score of her husband’s safety, Mr. Johnson, attended by Abaroo, agreed to remain as a hostage until Baneelon should return.

We landed our four friends opposite the hospital, and set out for the governor’s house.  On hearing of their arrival, such numbers flocked to view them that we were apprehensive the crowd of persons would alarm them, but they had left their fears behind, and marched on with boldness and unconcern.  When we reached the governor’s house, Baneelon expressed honest joy to see his old friend, and appeared pleased to find that he had recovered of his wound.  The governor asked for Wileemarin, and they said he was at Broken Bay.  Some bread and beef were distributed among them but unluckily no fish was to be procured, which we were sorry for, as a promise of it had been one of the leading temptations by which they had been allured over.  A hatchet apiece was, however, given to them, and a couple of petticoats and some fishing tackle sent for Barangaroo, and the other woman.

The ceremony of introduction being finished, Baneelon seemed to consider himself quite at home, running from room to room with his companions, and introducing them to his old friends, the domestics, in the most familiar manner.  Among these last, he particularly distinguished the governor’s orderly sergeant, whom he kissed with great affection, and a woman who attended in the kitchen; but the gamekeeper, M’Entire*, he continued to hold in abhorrence, and would not suffer his approach.

[Look at the account of the governor being wounded, when his detestation of this man burst forth.]

Nor was his importance to his countrymen less conspicuous in other respects.  He undertook to explain the use and nature of those things which were new to them.  Some of his explanations were whimsical enough.  Seeing, for instance, a pair of snuffers, he told them that they were “Nuffer* for candle,”—­which the others not comprehending, he opened the snuffers, and holding up the fore-finger of his left hand, to represent a candle, made the motion of snuffing it.  Finding, that even this sagacious interpretation failed, he threw down the snuffers in a rage, and reproaching their stupidity, walked away.