[This good-tempered lively lad, was become a great favourite with us, and almost constantly lived at the governor’s house.  He had clothes made up for him, and to amuse his mind, he was taught to wait at table.  One day a lady, Mrs. McArthur, wife of an officer of the garrison, dined there, as did Nanbaree.  This latter, anxious that his countryman should appear to advantage in his new office, gave him many instructions, strictly charging him, among other things, to take away the lady’s plate, whenever she should cross her knife and fork, and to give her a clean one.  This Imeerawanyee executed, not only to Mrs. McArthur, but to several of the other guests.  At last Nanbaree crossed his knife and fork with great gravity, casting a glance at the other, who looked for a moment with cool indifference at what he had done, and then turned his head another way.  Stung at this supercilious treatment, he called in rage, to know why he was not attended to, as well as the rest of the company.  But Imeerawanyee only laughed; nor could all the anger and reproaches of the other prevail upon him to do that for one of his countrymen, which he cheerfully continued to perform to every other person.]

Baneelon finding he could not succeed, withdrew himself for two days.  At length he made his appearance, attended only by his wife.  Unmindful of what had so recently happened, he marched singly up to the governor’s house, and on being refused admittance, though unarmed, attempted to force the sentinel.  The soldier spared him, but the guard was instantly sent for, and drawn up in front of the house; not that their co-operation was necessary, but that their appearance might terrify.  His ardour now cooled, and he seemed willing, by submission, to atone for his misconduct.  His intrepid disregard of personal risk, nay of life, could not however, but gain admiration; though it led us to predict, that this Baneelon, whom imagination had fondly pictured, like a second Omai, the gaze of a court and the scrutiny of the curious, would perish untimely, the victim of his own temerity.

To encourage his present disposition of mind, and to try if feelings of compassion towards an enemy, could be exerted by an Indian warrior, the governor ordered him to be taken to the hospital, that he might see the victim of his ferocity.  He complied in sullen silence.  When about to enter the room in which she lay, he appeared to have a momentary struggle with himself, which ended his resentment.  He spoke to her with kindness, and professed sorrow for what he had done, and promised her future protection.  Barangaroo, who had accompanied him, now took the alarm:  and as in shunning one extreme we are ever likely to rush into another, she thought him perhaps too courteous and tender.  Accordingly she began to revile them both with great bitterness, threw stones at the girl and attempted to beat her with a club.

Here terminated this curious history, which I leave to the reader’s speculation.  Whether human sacrifices of prisoners be common among them is a point which all our future inquiry never completely determined.  It is certain that no second instance of this sort was ever witnessed by us.