As soon as his woolly head appeared, I seized it with one hand, putting a revolver to his ear with the other. I dragged him through, in so doing waking up my mates. Through the interpretation of one of our Native catechists, we heard the boy’s story—that the Natives on whose ground we were encamped had made up a plot to fire the grass around our hut, and during the confusion into which we would be thrown by their war whoop added to the conflagration, spear or tomahawk us, in order to secure our trade goods and fire-arms, as well as the supply of fresh meat half a score of European bodies would afford them.

There was not much time left us for either reflection or planning an escape. We quickly crept out of the hut one by one, and found that the information was not only correct, but the fires were already being kindled in a large circle, of which we were the centre. The Natives could be easily seen in large numbers on the outer side of the circle of fire, the chief standing amongst a crowd—luckily for us on the land side, leaving the path to the river bank comparatively free from Natives. The chief held in his hand the insignia of office—a long spear with a white shell on the end of it, which was quite descernible by the glare of the blazing grass. We held a consultation as to the best and most likely way to startle the savages, so as to make good our retreat to the river, cross it, and make for Balade as speedily as possible. Captain Case had in his hand a double-barrelled fowling piece, with one rifle barrel. It was suggested that he should fire the first shot in the air in order to draw the natives’ attention, and with the rifle barrel take aim at the shell on the chief’s spear.

On that shot depended the lives of fourteen men, and I am bound to say our friend’s calm and deliberate aim for that momentous shot denoted a true British tar’s firmness. A crack, followed by a terrific yell, told us that the scheme had succeeded. The natives in a body gathered round their chief to see the wonderful destruction of his talismanic shell, shattered into invisibility by Captain Case’s shot.

Before they could even notice our departure, we were making hasty tracks for the water, following in the wake of our native guides, whose marvellous instinct and thorough knowledge of the locality proved quite as useful as our friend’s skill at a target. They found not only the shortest path to the Giahot, but amongst the high reeds on the banks of that stream several canoes, which we annexed to convey our party across, and cut off communication with the wretches who had so treacherously attempted to give us a warmer reception than we had contemplated. When on the top of the range dividing the river from Balade, we saw the glare of our own pyre, and heard the chattering and yells of the fiends—caused, no doubt, by the discovery of the loss of their canoes, and doubtless also that of the anticipated supper or breakfast they had purposed having at our expense.

We reached the Mission at daybreak, and the same day fifty men, under command of one of the lieutenants and one of our party, went back and gave the Kanakas a lesson they have not forgotten to this day. The boy who saved our lives was a lad of twelve or fourteen, intelligent and bright. He gave a thorough explanation of the whole plot to the Rev. Father Montrouzier, who, fearing that the boy’s life might be endangered if he stayed on the island, induced me to take him away, for a time, at all events, with the youngster’s sanction; and having christened him “Joachim,” which he at once pronounced “Sokymy,” I enlisted him in my service. A better, more useful servant, and more faithful follower, I never had, for the seven years he lived with me. Poor boy, like most of the South Sea Islanders, he died of pleurisy, accelerated by exposure.