After they had got through with the hides, the Kanakas laid hold of the bags of tallow (the bags are made of hide, and are about the size of a common meal-bag), and lifted each upon the shoulders of two men, one at each end, who walked off with them to the boat, when all prepared to go aboard.  Here, too, was something for us to learn.  The man who steered shipped his oar and stood up in the stern, and those that pulled the two after oars sat upon their benches, with their oars shipped, ready to strike out as soon as she was afloat.  The two men remained standing at the bows; and when, at length, a large sea came in and floated her, seized hold of the gunwales, and ran out with her till they were up to their armpits, and then tumbled over the gunwales into the bows, dripping with water.  The men at the oars struck out, but it wouldn’t do; the sea swept back and left them nearly high and dry.  The two fellows jumped out again; and the next time they succeeded better, and, with the help of a deal of outlandish hallooing and bawling, got her well off.  We watched them till they were out of the breakers, and saw them steering for their vessel, which was now hidden in the darkness.

The sand of the beach began to be cold to our bare feet; the frogs set up their croaking in the marshes, and one solitary owl, from the end of the distant point, gave out his melancholy note, mellowed by the distance, and we began to think that it was high time for ``the old man,’’ as a shipmaster is commonly called, to come down.  In a few minutes we heard something coming towards us.  It was a man on horseback.  He came on the full gallop, reined up near us, addressed a few words to us, and, receiving no answer, wheeled round and galloped off again.  He was nearly as dark as an Indian, with a large Spanish hat, blanket cloak or serape, and leather leggins, with a long knife stuck in them. ``This is the seventh city that ever I was in, and no Christian one neither,’’ said Bill Brown. ``Stand by!’’ said John, ``you haven’t seen the worst of it yet.’’ In the midst of this conversation the captain appeared; and we winded the boat round, shoved her down, and prepared to go off.  The captain, who had been on the coast before, and ``knew the ropes,’’ took the steering-oar, and we went off in the same way as the other boat.  I, being the youngest, had the pleasure of standing at the bow, and getting wet through.  We went off well, though the seas were high.  Some of them lifted us up, and, sliding from under us, seemed to let us drop through the air like a flat plank upon the body of the water.  In a few minutes we were in the low, regular swell, and pulled for a light, which, as we neared it, we found had been run up to our trysail gaff.