The captain had charged all on deck to keep a very sharp look-out, and Mr Charlton had said to Ben, "You have as bright a pair of eyes as anybody on board. Keep them wide open, and if you see anything like a glimmer of light through the darkness, and feel the cold greater than before, sing out sharply, there will be an iceberg ahead."

Ben resolved to do as he was told, but he did not think it likely that a little fellow like himself could be of much use. He would naturally have been very much alarmed had he been by himself in such a position, but he saw every one round him cool and collected, and he therefore felt free from fear. The four hours of his watch had nearly expired. He had been all the time peering into the darkness, thinking more than once that he saw what he had been told to look out for. Mr Martin and three or four of the best men in the ship were on the forecastle with him, all likewise looking out. Suddenly he saw what appeared like a huge sheet shaken before him by invisible hands, and a chill struck his cheek. This was what he was to look for. He sang out lustily, "An iceberg ahead—right ahead!"

"Starboard the helm!" sang out a voice from aft; and at those words the sheets and traces were flattened aft, while every man on deck flew to his post. In another instant the stout ship would have been a helpless wreck, foundering under the base of a huge iceberg. There was no space to spare. Foaming, roaring seas were seen dashing against its sides as the toiling frigate ploughed her way past it, near enough, Mr Martin said, to heave a biscuit on it. Some minutes passed before any one breathed freely; the danger had been so great and terrible that it was difficult to believe that it had passed away.

"You deserve well of us, Ben; and, depend on it, the captain and Mr Charlton are not likely to overlook what you have done," said Mr Martin. "Though I had my eyes wide open, I did not see the berg till some seconds after you had sung out; and in a touch-and-go matter, a few seconds makes all the difference whether a ship is saved or lost."

There was great danger as the ship sailed on, with the seas on her side, of their breaking on board, and she was therefore once more kept away before the wind. The watch was called, and Ben turned in. All those now on deck kept their eyes very wide open, watching for another iceberg, which it was likely they might meet with. Ben in his hammock slept soundly; he had prayed, and commended himself and all with him to his heavenly Father's protection. "If the ship should sink, I may awake and find myself with Him; but why should I fear? He will, I know, receive me graciously, and I shall meet my dear father and brothers with Him." And with such thoughts the Christian sailor boy dropped asleep.

For several days the ship ran on, the captain hauling up gradually to the north as the weather moderated. Her course was then somewhat easterly, and after some time a report ran through the ship that land might any hour be seen on the starboard bow; that is to say, on the right side. It was said that, on such occasions, the person who first discovered land often received the reward of a sovereign, or half a sovereign; and when Ben heard this, he became very anxious to obtain it. He had been the first to see the iceberg, why should he not be the first to see land? He was afraid, however, that his chance was small, as he had his duties in the gun-room to attend to, and he could seldom get away long enough at a time to go to the masthead. Still he determined to try. One thing struck him as very wonderful, that, after sailing on so many weeks, and not having once seen land, the officer should be able to tell the exact spot at which they should arrive, and the time within a few hours.

The place for which the frigate was bound is called Valparaiso, in the republic of Chili. She was, after leaving it, to go in search of the admiral on the station, and then to proceed on her voyage across the Pacific Ocean. Mr Martin told Ben and Tom that the Pacific is full of groups of islands, some of them of considerable size, with lofty mountains on them; others composed of coral, many of them measuring not a mile from one end to the other, and raised but a few feet above the surface of the ocean.

"Ah, among so many, what chance shall I have of finding Ned?" sighed Ben.

"Why, as to chance, my boy, about as much chance as finding a needle in a bundle of hay," answered Mr Martin. "But I thought, Ben, you knew better than to talk of chance. If your brother is alive,—and you shouldn't count too much upon that,—if it's God's will that you should find him, you will; but, if not, though we should visit fifty islands,— and I daresay we shall see more than that number,—you won't."

"I know, I know. I don't mean chance. Not a sparrow falls to the ground but God sees it; but I mean that, among so many islands, it is less likely that the frigate should visit the one where Ned may be."

"As I said before, if God means you to find your brother, even though there were ten times as many islands as there are, and the ship was only to visit twenty of them, or ten, or five of them, or only one for that matter, you will find him. All you have to do is to trust in God that He'll do what is best."

"Yes, I know that," said Ben. "Father always used to say, 'Do right, whatever comes of it.' God will take care that good will come out of it in the end."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

DO RIGHT, WHATEVER COMES OF IT.

"Land! land!" shouted little Ben, from the foretop-masthead; for he had been out of his hammock and aloft before break of day, that he might have the best opportunity of seeing land if it was to be seen. "Yes, yes, that must be the land; those are tops of mountains covered with snow, just what Mr Martin told me might be seen before sunrise. Land! land! away on the starboard bow!" he shouted more loudly.

The officer of the watch heard him, and was soon, with his telescope slung over his shoulder, ascending the rigging. Ben pointed out the direction in which he saw the snow-capped peaks.

"You have a sharp pair of eyes, boy Hadden," observed the officer, who was looking through his glass; "those are the Andes or Cordilleras, sure enough, though seventy miles off at least—it may be many more than that."

Ben thought that he must indeed have a sharp pair of eyes, if he could see an object seventy miles off; yet he found that the officer was correct. All the men aloft now saw the mountains, and very soon they could be perceived by those on deck. Shortly after the sun rose, however, thin and light mists ascended, and veiled them from view. Still the ship sailed on with a fair breeze, hour after hour, and no land appeared. Ben began to fancy that he must have been mistaken. He was somewhat surprised, therefore, when he was sent for into the captain's cabin.

"I find that you were the first to see land this morning, boy Hadden," said the captain in a kind tone. "There is no great merit in that, but after a long passage it might be of much consequence, and I wish to reward you. You, however, rendered me a far greater service when you discovered the iceberg rounding Cape Horn. I shall not forget that. In the meantime I present you with a sovereign, to show you that I approve of your conduct on that and other occasions."

Ben, thanking the captain, left the cabin, highly pleased at the praise he had received, and very glad also to get the sovereign; not that he might spend it on himself, but that he might send it home to his mother; and he had some notion that he could do so by some means or other, but how, he could not tell. He would consult Mr Martin.

"Oh, it was to get that gold sovereign which made you so eager about going aloft of late," observed Tom, who was somewhat jealous of his companion.

"Yes. I wanted it to send to my mother," answered Ben quietly.

"But she can't want it. I never send my mother anything, nor does father, that I know of," exclaimed Tom. "Much better, Ben, to spend it like a man ashore. We could have rare fun with it, depend on that."

"My mother is a widow, and that is one reason why she should want the money, though yours doesn't," said Ben. "Then, though I came to sea in the hope of finding Ned, I also came that I might get money to take care of mother in her old age; so I think it right to send her the first sovereign I have got, and I hope that it will be followed by many more."

"You are always talking about doing right in this thing and that; but how do you know what is right?" exclaimed Tom, vexed at the idea that he should not benefit, as he thought he ought to do, by the gift his messmate had received.

"How can you ask that?" said Ben. "Haven't we got the Bible to show us in the first place, and if we can't make up our minds clearly on the matter from it, which, I allow, is possible, then cannot we pray to be guided aright? and does not God promise that He will hear our prayers, and send the Holy Spirit to guide us?"

"Yes, I know all that," answered Tom, turning away. In truth, Tom ought to have known it as well as Ben, for his father had frequently told him the same; but, though he had heard, the words had passed from one ear out at the other: he had not taken them in.

Early in the day the master had stated the hour at which the coast-line of South America would be seen; for the mountains Ben had discovered are several miles inland, and are many thousand feet high—indeed, the range of the Andes is one of the highest in the world. It now appeared at the hour the master said it would, standing up rocky and broken, from the very margin of the ocean. As the frigate drew nearer, the land looked very dry and barren, and utterly unworthy of the name it bears.

"If you were to see it in winter, just after the rains are over, you would speak very differently of it," observed Mr Martin, who had been there before. "Never judge of things, and, above all, of countries, at first sight. At the right time this country looks as green and fresh and beautiful a country as you need ever wish to see."

In the afternoon the frigate anchored in the bay of Valparaiso, which is lined by lofty hills, underneath one of which, and climbing up the sides, the town is built.

Ben was very anxious to go on shore, that he might inquire among all the sailors he could meet if any of them had heard anything of his brother Ned. Mr Charlton knew this, and arranged that he might have the opportunity of carrying out his plans as far as possible. Whenever a boat left for the shore, Ben was therefore allowed to go in her. Soon after their arrival, a boat in which Ben went was sent from the frigate under command of a midshipman, who had some commission to perform in the town. On leaving the boat, the midshipman said, "Two of you will remain as boat-keepers; the rest may step on shore, but are not to stray out of sight of the boat. Remember, these are the captain's orders."

"Ay, ay, sir," was the answer; but no sooner had the midshipman disappeared up the street, than the men all jumped on shore to look out for a grog-shop. Not one was to be seen, and on that account the place had been selected by the captain for the landing of the boat's crew. In vain they searched.

"Now, Ben Hadden, here's a job for you," said the coxswain of the boat, when they had come back and sat down in rather a sulky mood. "Just you scud up the street, and bring us down a couple of bottles of arguardiente. You are certain to find some place where they sell it, and there's five shillings for yourself. I know you want money to send to your mother; Tom told me so. Very right in you. Come, be sharp about it, there's a good lad."

"Thank you, Brown," said Ben, not moving from his seat; "but you forget that Mr Manners said it was the captain's orders no one should go out of sight of the boat. Even if you were to offer me five pounds for mother, I couldn't go—"

"Oh, nonsense, boy!" answered Brown; "it isn't the money you care about, I know, but do it just to oblige us."

"No, no, Brown. I have been taught always to do right, whatever comes of it, and never to do wrong, even if it seems as if no harm would come of it," said Ben firmly.

"All right, I daresay, boy; but surely there's no harm in getting some grog in this hot weather," argued Brown.

"It's against orders, it's against the regulations, it's disobedience," returned Ben. "We were ordered not to go out of sight of the boat, and unless we do the arguardiente cannot be got."

"Oh, this is all shilly-shallying humbug!" exclaimed Brown angrily. "Come, a couple of you, with me, and we'll have the liquor, and be back in a jiffy."

"Remember, Brown, if you do, and I am asked, I'll speak the truth, I'll warn you," said Ben undauntedly.

"And I'll break your head, if you do!" exclaimed Brown, springing out of the boat, followed by two of the other men, while the rest soon scattered themselves about the quay, leaving Ben sitting in the boat. He, at all events, determined not to move, though the proper boat-keepers deserted their post. He sat on for some time, watching people passing on shore: blacks, and brown men, the aboriginal natives of the country, and white people descended from Spaniards, in their varied and picturesque costumes; and two or three processions passed, of priests, in white and purple dresses, and some in gold and scarlet, with banners of the Virgin Mary and saints, and crucifixes, and images, and bells tinkling, and men and boys chanting and swinging about incense, just as Ben had read used to be done in heathen days, but quite different to the custom of Protestant England. Some of the priests were going to visit the sick and dying, and others were on their way to attend funerals; indeed, there seemed to be a good deal of commotion on shore among the ecclesiastics. Ben could not, however, exactly tell what it all meant.

A considerable time thus passed, and he wished that his shipmates would return to the boat, lest Mr Manners should come down before them. The boat had begun to move about a good deal lately, and Ben, on looking round, discovered that a heavy sea was rolling into the harbour. Directly after this she struck with a loud noise against the stone pier. Ben sprang to his feet, and with the boat-hook did his best to fend off the boat, shouting at the same time to the crew to come to his assistance; but they were too much occupied with what was going forward on shore to listen to him. Still he continued to exert himself to the uttermost, for he saw that, if he did not do so, the boat would be dashed to pieces. Again and again he shouted, till he was almost worn out with his labours. He might at any moment have jumped on shore, and left the boat to her fate; but he never thought of doing so. While he was thus engaged, he heard his name called, and, looking up, he saw the good-natured face of Mr Manners, who was watching him from the quay above.

"Why, boy Hadden, how comes it that you are left in the boat alone?" he asked. "Where are the rest?"

"There, sir," said Ben, pointing to where a few were to be seen.

The midshipman ran towards them, shouting out at the same time. They came, at length, very unwillingly.

"See, you have allowed the boat to be almost stove in!" exclaimed the generally quiet young midshipman. "Jump in, now, and keep her off. Where are the rest?"

The men, after getting into the boat, were silent for some time. The midshipman repeated the question.

"Just round the end of that street," said one of the men. "Shall I go and call them, sir? What keeps them, I don't know."

"No," answered the midshipman firmly. "We will pull off a short distance, and wait for them. If they do not come down immediately, I will go on board without them."

The officer was just about to utter the words, "Give way!" when the missing men were seen hurrying down, with uneven steps, towards the quay. The boat put in, and took them on board. Their countenances were flushed, and their manner wild; but they did not venture to speak much. The midshipman saw that they were endeavouring to conceal something, as they took their seats. "Heave those bottles overboard!" he exclaimed suddenly, when they had got a little way from the quay.

The men hesitated. "Not till they are empty," cried one. "Not till we have had what is in them," exclaimed another, putting a bottle to his lips.

The midshipman, a spirited lad, sprang from his seat, and, passing the intervening men, with a boat-stretcher which he had seized dashed the bottle from the man's lips ere a drop could have been drunk. This so exasperated the already tipsy sailor, that he flung himself on the young officer, and, seizing him in his arms, threw him overboard.

Ben, though not in time to prevent this, jumped from the boat, holding on by one of the tiller-ropes, and grasped his young officer by the collar. "Haul us in, mates!" he cried. "You won't surely add murder to what that man has done!"

Even the worst men were somewhat sobered when they saw what had happened, and the other man who had the bottle to his lips stopped drinking; and, fearful of consequences to themselves, they began to haul the officer and Ben together on board.

"Quick! quick, mates! or it will be too late!" cried the coxswain, who had remained on the quay, though he had been guilty of letting the other men go.

A dark object was seen in the water. It darted towards them.

"A shark! a shark!" was the cry.

Ben quickly sprang into the boat; but barely was Mr Manners hauled on board than a flash of white appeared, a huge mouth opened and closed again with a loud snap, and a shark darted away, disappointed of its prey. Even the most drunken of the men were sobered, and the bottles of spirit they had procured at so much risk were thrown overboard. The midshipman quickly recovered.

"They are all gone, sir," said the coxswain in a humble tone. "The men hope that you won't say anything about what has happened."

"I would gladly avoid doing so, so far as I am myself concerned, although, no thanks to Dick Nolan, I am a living man, instead of a dead one in the body of a shark; but discipline must be maintained. I should be neglecting my duty if I did not report those who disobeyed orders. I shall speak of you in no vindictive spirit, and it will not be my fault if the man who threw me into the water receives the punishment which is justly his due: that punishment would be nothing short of death— remember that, my men! I have been taught by a Book, which I wish that you all would read, to forgive my enemies and those who injure me; and therefore I will, for the sake of our loving Saviour, endeavour to save Nolan's life."

The men hung down their heads. This was a very different style of address from what they were accustomed to. No one expected it; even Ben, who had frequently been with Mr Manners, did not. The most hardened felt ashamed of themselves; they were certain that the young officer would not injure them if he could help it, but they also knew that he must report them.

At length the boat reached the ship, and Mr Manners went into the cabin to give an account of the mission on which he had been sent on shore. Ben felt very anxious for the boat's crew; and the culprits, especially, felt very anxious for themselves. Ben forgot all about himself, and he did not suppose that he was likely to gain credit for the part he had acted. He was therefore very much surprised when he was sent for into the cabin.

"I find, Hadden, that you have behaved admirably on two occasions to-day, once in staying by the boat when the proper boat-keepers had left her, and preventing her from being stove in; and secondly, in jumping into the sea and saving Mr Manners when he fell overboard. I wish you to know how highly I approve of your conduct, and will consider how I can best reward you."

Ben was highly pleased at hearing this. He kept pulling away at the front lock of his hair, and thanking the captain, till he was told that he might leave the cabin.

Seamen generally know what has taken place among each other, even when the officers do not. Tom soon heard all that had occurred, and told his father. It was reported the next day that the captain proposed flogging three of the men who had been on shore with Mr Manners. Then it was known that several of the boat's crew were down with a severe fever, and it was reported that the captain knew that there was a fever on shore, and that therefore he had not given leave to the men to go as they had been accustomed to do. Nolan, who had thrown Mr Manners overboard, was the very worst of them. It was said that he was talking very frantically, and accusing himself of the deed. In this dreadful state he continued raving for two days, when he was silent from exhaustion, and died. The captain, hoping to prevent the spread of the fever among the crew, put to sea. Many more, however, were taken ill, of whom several died, and were buried at sea.

One day, Mr Martin called Ben and Tom into his cabin. "Now, boys, I just want to point out to you what you must remember to the end of your days; that is, the terrible effects of disobedience. Those poor fellows whose corpses we have lowered overboard, I daresay, thought that they were doing no great harm when they ran off to the grog-shop. They knew, of course, that they were disobeying the orders of Mr Manners, the midshipman in command of the boat; but they said to themselves, 'Oh, he is only a midshipman, no harm can come of it. We shall be back before he is, and he need know nothing about the matter.' They forgot that the midshipman was acting under the orders of the captain, and the captain under those of the Government of our country, and that Governments and authorities were instituted by God for the well-being and happiness of the community. They thought that they were committing a little sin, but they were in reality guilty of a great crime. See the result. One of them nearly committed murder, and if he had lived, and the captain had been informed of what he had done, he would have been hung. I know all about it, though the crew think I don't. Then they catch the fever, bring it aboard, some of them lose their own lives, and they risk the lives of all the ship's company. Just in the same way people go on in the world. God has given us orders what we are to do, and what we are not to do. How do we act? We neglect to do what He has commanded us to do, and do the very things He has told us not to do, saying all the time to ourselves, 'It is only a little sin, it is only a slight disobedience; so slight, God won't notice it; no harm can come of it.' That is one of Satan's most cunning and most successful devices for destroying the souls of men. He tried it with Adam and Eve, and has tried it on all their descendants ever since, and will try it as long as he 'goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.' Oh, boys, remember that 'not a sparrow falls to the ground' but God sees it, and that He therefore knows all that you do; and that, though a sin may appear a trifle in your sight, it is not a trifle in God's sight, for He abhors all sin. 'He cannot look on iniquity.'"

Tom looked very grave when his father spoke, and felt very serious. Ben clearly understood and remembered the important lesson given him, and prayed silently that he might always make use of it when, temptation should come in his way. He was very happy, and he knew it, in being in a ship with such good men as Mr Charlton and Mr Martin, to whom he now found that he might add Mr Manners. These men, though only a few among many, had a great effect on the mass, and helped to leaven in some degree the whole ship's company. Ben himself produced a good effect not only on Tom, but among the other boys of the ship, and even with many of the men, though he was not aware of it, and would not have talked about it if he had been.

In consequence of the fever, the frigate did not go back to Valparaiso, but stood away to the northward, looking in at other ports along the coast where any British merchantmen were to be found. It is thus England protects her commerce, by showing the inhabitants of the various ports in the world to which her merchants trade, that she has the power to punish those who may venture to ill-treat them; her consuls and any other authorities are supported; and any seamen or other British subjects who misbehave themselves on board English ships can be brought to punishment. If British subjects break the laws of the country in which they are residing, they are left to be punished according to those laws. It is, however, the duty of the consul, supported by the authority of the captain of a man-of-war, to see that they are not punished except justly, according to those laws.

Callao, the port of Lima, the capital of Peru, was the last place on the west of America at which the frigate touched. She anchored in a large bay, guarded by forts, and opposite the modern town of Callao, which stands near the beach. Upwards of a hundred years ago a fearful earthquake occurred, which shook Lima to the ground; and a huge wave rolling in towards the shore at the same time, overwhelmed the old town of Callao, and destroyed the greater part, if not the whole, of the inhabitants.

Peru was taken by the Spaniards three hundred years ago from the native Indians, who lived happily under their own princes and chiefs. The latter were treated with the greatest cruelty and injustice by their conquerors, and compelled to work in the silver and copper mines which exist along the whole range of the Andes. The Spaniards were, in their turn, dispossessed of the government of the country by the descendants of the early settlers, who were assisted by the natives and the people descended from natives and Spaniard. Unhappily, the Roman Catholic religion is established throughout the whole of Chili and Peru, for the history of the two countries is nearly the same; and the people have the characteristics which are to be found wherever that religion prevails. The great mass are ignorant and superstitious; their priests, of whom there are great numbers, grossly impose on their credulity.

The mines, as from the first, are worked by the natives, who are, however, from their delicate constitutions, so unfitted for that sort of labour that they have rapidly decreased in numbers. The consequence is, that many of the mines have been closed for want of hands to work them.

While the Ajax lay at Callao, Captain Bertram heard that, shortly before, an expedition of a dozen or more vessels had been fitted out to entrap and carry off the natives of the various islands of the Pacific, for the purpose of making them work in the mines of Peru. What mattered it to these wretches whether the islanders they proposed to enslave were Christians and civilised, or cannibal savages? They would have preferred the former as more likely to be docile under the treatment to which they proposed to subject them. At first Captain Bertram would scarcely believe that people professing to be civilised and Christians could be guilty of an act of such atrocious barbarity. He remembered, however, who these Chilians are; that in their dispositions and education they differ in no way from Spaniards, and that the Spanish have been to the last the most active agents in the African slave-trade. Those who know the high state of civilisation of which the natives of Eastern Polynesia are capable, and the remarkable fitness of their minds for receiving the truths of the gospel, will naturally feel unmitigated horror at the thought of their being made the victims of so abominable a scheme. This was especially the feeling of Mr Charlton when he heard the account, and he resolved to use every exertion to capture the slavers, and to bring their crews to justice.



CHAPTER NINE.

ADVENTURES AMONG THE ISLANDS.

The Ajax had remained at Callao in order that Captain Bertram might obtain more information respecting the slaving expedition of which he had received notice. All he could learn, however, was that a dozen or more vessels had sailed, fully armed, with stores for a long cruise, and a larger quantity of rice and other provisions than could be required by their crews. Where they had gone no one could tell. Probably the islands they were to attack were left to the choice of their commanders.

On putting to sea, the Ajax steered to the westward. As the frigate approached the numerous groups of islands which lay in her course, it became necessary to keep a very bright look-out, by day as well as by night. The first group consisted of low coral islands, which rise but a few feet above the water.

Ben was anxious to make himself useful as before, and was continually at the masthead, when his watch was over, looking out for land. One day, when he was as usual aloft, turning his eyes round in every direction, he saw right ahead what seemed to be a grove of trees rising directly out of the water. He reported what he saw. Sail was immediately shortened, and the lead hove, and, as the ship sailed on, the lead was again frequently hove.

"It is the Minerva coral island," Ben heard the captain observe to Mr Charlton, after he and the master had been looking over the chart.

As the ship rose and fell with the swell of the ocean, the trees were now seen and now again lost sight of alternately for some time; this had a very curious effect. As the frigate drew near, a white sandy beach was seen, and, higher up, a belt of land of a light clay colour, on which grew a few shrubs not more than fifteen feet high, above which towered the pandanus, cocoa-nut, and palms. The whole island was about ten miles long, and a mile and a half wide, the centre part being occupied by a lagoon, or lake, of smooth deeply blue water, thus leaving a belt of land not more than six hundred feet across. This lagoon had no opening or entrance to it, but Ben heard that the lagoons of most of the coral islands have a communication with the sea, so that boats and canoes can enter. Outside the island, at some little distance, rose a second or outer reef, over which the sea flowed at high water. This served in heavy gales, when the waves rolled in furious to break their force, and to protect the shore over which they might otherwise have swept, carrying away the trees and shrubs which made it a fit habitation for man.

Mr Martin gave Ben and Tom an account of the way these coral islands are formed. "Coral, you will understands is made by very small sea insects, who form it for their habitation," he observed. "God has given them the instinct to build in certain ways and places, just, as if they knew what they were about, and that they were building up an island fit to be inhabited by human beings. They seem to choose the tops of rocks from one hundred to two hundred fathoms below the surface, for the foundation of their structure. They have toiled on for ages, placing storey upon storey, till the surface has been reached, when they have been compelled to cease; for out of the water, whence they draw their materials—their bricks and mortar, so to speak—they can do nothing. The outer edge breaks the force of the sea, but not altogether. Enough strength is exerted during storms to tear off the outer edge of the coral, and to throw it on the top of the wall. Seaweed and driftwood and dead fish are next thrown up on it, which, when they decay, form soil. Birds next come and rest on the island, and further enrich the soil. They bring seeds of grass and small shrubs at first, and afterwards of larger trees, which take root and spring up, and in their turn, when they decay, form more earth to nourish a larger species of trees, such as the tall palms, and cocoa-nut, and pandanus, which we have seen growing on them. The sandy beach is formed of the broken coral and shells, ground small by the constant action of the waves. I have heard that the lagoons are often very deep, so that the island is exactly like a circular wall built up from the bottom of the sea, or rather from a rock far down in it."

Mr Martin promised the boys that he would tell them more about other islands which they were likely to visit another time. He had also with him some most interesting accounts of the progress which the missionaries had made among the heathen in those seas, which he promised also to give them.

People were seen on the shore, though no habitations were visible, and Captain Bertram wished to communicate with them. While the frigate was hove to, to leeward of the island, two boats were sent on shore under Mr Charlton's command. Ben went in one of them. A native of Tahiti, called Tatai, had been shipped at Callao to act as interpreter, as without one very little intercourse could have been held with the natives. Ben had told him all about Ned, and how he hoped to find him on one of the islands they expected to visit Tatai said that he must not be too sanguine, as it was very like looking for a pearl in a bed of oysters, though there were great numbers of white men scattered about among the islands, and even living among the most savage natives. He promised, however, to make inquiries, and to help on his object as far as he had the power.

The boats had to coast along for some time before an entrance through the reef could be found. The sea dashed against the reef, and, curling over, fell back in a shower of spray. A boat striking it would have been instantly overwhelmed or dashed to pieces. The passage between the two walls of water which thus rose up on either side of the entrance was very narrow. It seemed indeed that the boats could not pass through without the oars touching the rocks. Mr Charlton, however, considered that the passage was practicable, so also did Tatai. Mr Charlton led, and as his boat was cautiously feeling its way, a smooth roller majestically approached the shore. "Give way, lads," he cried. The boat glided on, the water broke with a thundering roar on the reef; but the boat, like an arrow, had shot through and was floating safely within the reef. The other boat immediately followed.

The natives from the shore had been watching these proceedings, and now gathered in considerable numbers on the beach. They were all armed with spears, and showed an evident dislike to holding intercourse with the white people. They nourished their spears, pointed them towards the boats, and made significant gestures for the intruders to depart. Still, as it was important to speak to the poor savages, Mr Charlton pulled towards a ledge of rocks which ran out from the shore, and with a basket full of presents, landed, accompanied by Tatai. The people ran towards him, threatening with their spears as before. He advanced as if to meet them, put down the presents, and then retreated. An old man, who wore a short petticoat of leaves fastened round his waist, and a pandanus leaf hung from his neck as a sign that he was a chief, was in front. He stopped, picked up the handkerchiefs, knives, and trinkets which formed the offering made to him, and, having handed them to his followers, rushed on, gesticulating furiously, towards the English officer. Tatai shouted out that the visitors came as friends, but the only reply he got was, "Go away, go away! we do not want you," spoken in the native tongue.

This was not encouraging. Mr Charlton, however, was not to be defeated. Pulling off to a little distance from the shore, he consulted with Tatai. "If we land without arms and offer them food, that will show that we wish to be friends," he said. Tatai agreed to this, and offered to accompany the lieutenant, provided the boat kept near enough to render them assistance if required.

Again the boat pulled in, and Mr Charlton told Ben that he might land with him, as the savages would see by a boy being of the party that no treachery could be intended. Again the boat touched the beach, at a spot where she could easily be shoved off, and, having deposited his sword and pistols and rifle in the boat, Mr Charlton with his two companions proceeded towards a group of natives who had been watching their proceedings. The natives, instead of coming towards them, seemed to be holding a consultation together. Mr Charlton and his companions, seeing this, sat down, and, taking the provisions out of the basket Ben carried, commenced eating. After a short time, placing the food on a flat rock, and retiring to a little distance, they made signs to the natives to come and eat.

The natives now without hesitation came down, led by their old chief, who took the lion's share of the food, which he seemed to enjoy very much. When the old man had finished eating, Tatai addressed him. He no longer said, "go away," but listened attentively. The interpreter told him that the English had come to his island as friends; that their only object was to do him good; that they had heard that certain wicked people in vessels had visited some of the islands in their seas, and carried off the natives to make slaves of them; and that, as the English did not like having people made slaves, they were seeking for those bad men to punish them.

The old chief listened attentively to all that was said, and then made a long speech, which Tatai translated. He remarked that everything he had heard was very good; that two suspicious-looking vessels had appeared off the coast not long before; that several boat-loads of armed men had attempted to land; but that, a gale springing up at that moment, they could not effect their purpose, and that the vessels were compelled to bear away.

Mr Charlton, on this, showed the British flag, and told them that, while they behaved well, under that flag they would ever find protection.

The old chief seemed clearly to comprehend what was said. A new light had burst on him. "How is it that your friends are so great and powerful, while I am so poor and miserable?" he asked of Tatai.

"Because my friends worship the great and powerful God, who has given them a Book which makes those who study it wise, while you worship your wretched gods, who are no gods, and cannot help you or make you wise, or do you any good," answered the interpreter promptly.

"Then I should like to learn about your God," said the old chief.

Tatai, in reply, promised that he would try and send some one who would teach them more about the white man's God, and what He desired them to do, and teach them how to pray to Him.

Mr Charlton was much pleased with what Tatai had said, and promised that he would also try to have either a native or English missionary sent to them. He then made more presents to the old chief, made further inquiries about the vessels of the supposed man-stealers, and, after a friendly farewell to the old chief and his companions, pulled back to the ship.

Thus a visit which threatened to prove disastrous, by judicious management gave promise of being productive of great good to the islanders.

After this, the Ajax visited several other islands, searching for the man-stealers. Some were inhabited, others had the remains of huts, altars, and temples, and had been deserted; and on others no signs of human beings could be discovered.



CHAPTER TEN.

TELLS ABOUT MISSION WORK.

Mr Martin had, as it may be remembered, promised to give Ben and his son an account of the introduction of Christianity among the islands of the Pacific. One day, during a calm, when the ship floated idly on the ocean, her sails scarcely even flapping against the masts, Tom, on going below, declared that it was too hot to read or think or sleep, and that he did not know what he should do with himself.

"It is not too hot to prevent you from listening though, Master Tom," said his father, who did not like to see any one idle from any excuse. "Call Ben Hadden, and I'll tell you and him something which will interest you, or ought to do so, at all events."

Ben soon came, and the boatswain told him and Tom to sit down just outside his cabin, where there was more air than inside.

"Now listen, youngsters; I'm not going to throw my breath away on unwilling ears," he began.

"I am listening, sir," said Ben.

"So am I, father," said Tom, "but I can't promise to keep awake if the yarn is a long one."

"Don't let me catch you with more than one eye shut at a time, or I'll be down on you," answered the boatswain. "As I was saying, now listen. You've heard of Captain Cook, the great navigator, who sailed over and across these seas in every direction, and found out many islands not before known to civilised men. His business was to try and discover new lands, and to do any good he could to the inhabitants, by leaving them seeds and plants and animals; but there was nothing in his directions that I know of about teaching them religion. There would not have been time for him to do much, even if he had had any such instructions, unless he had carried out missionaries with him; but in those days missionaries to heathen lands were not so much as thought of in England. You have heard how Cook was killed by the savages of the Sandwich Islands, who have now become the most civilised of all the people of these seas. The descriptions he and his companions gave of the islanders made some Christian people at home think that, if missionaries were sent to them, they might be persuaded to become Christians. The London Missionary Society had just been formed—that was as far back as 1797. The first of their many noble enterprises was to send out twenty-nine missionaries in the ship Duff, commanded by Captain Wilson. The greater number settled at Tahiti, where they were well received by the natives; while others went to Tongatabu, and two of them attempted to commence a mission at Saint Christina, one of the Marquesas. The latter mission was, however, soon afterwards abandoned, and has never since been resumed; and unhappily, as the French have taken possession of the group, there is not much probability of an English Protestant mission being established there, whatever the French Protestants may do.

"At Tahiti many years passed before any fruits of the missionaries' labours were perceived, not indeed till 1813, when some praying natives were discovered, and a church was formed. From that time, however, Christianity spread rapidly, and the converted natives were eager to go forth themselves as missionaries, not only to neighbouring islands, such as the Paumotre, the Austral, and Hervey groups, but to Raratonga and Samoa, and, still farther, to the New Hebrides, Loyalty Islands, and New Caledonia and Penryn Islands.

"The climate of those islands in the Western Pacific, near the equator, is nearly as hurtful to the constitutions of the inhabitants of the eastern part of that ocean as to Europeans, and very many native missionaries have fallen martyrs in the cause of the gospel. In some instances the English missionaries were the first to land, and afterwards to employ native agency; in others, the natives were first sent to a heathen island, and the more highly-educated white men followed, to complete the work commenced by their dark-skinned brethren. In many instances the missionaries had long to wait before they saw the fruit of their labours; in others, the natives at once gladly accepted the glorious tidings of salvation. In very few have missions been ultimately abandoned in consequence of the hostility of the natives in the Eastern Pacific; the Marquesas is the chief exception. In the Western Pacific the natives have been much more hostile to the missionaries. This has arisen in consequence of the treatment they have often received from the crews of whale-ships, and from sandal-wood traders. These men have been known to carry off natives from one island, to make them cut sandal-wood on another inhabited by their mortal foes, and after their task has been accomplished the traders have left the poor wretches there to be butchered, and often eaten, by their enemies, to save themselves the trouble of taking them back and paying them their stipulated reward.

"The history of the establishment of Christianity on many of these islands is very interesting. The way in which it was introduced into Raratonga, the largest of the Hervey group, is so in particular. Some natives of that island had been carried away in a whale-ship, and left at Aitutaki. Among them was the niece of the principal chief of the island. At Aitutaki, the great missionary Williams saw them, and, accompanied by them, after a long search, discovered their island. This was in 1823. The unfriendly reception he met with from the savage natives, however, made it impossible for him to remain. Had it not been, indeed, for the exertions of Tapaeru, the niece of the chief, who had been carried away, the native teachers who went on shore would have been murdered. They returned on board; but Papehia, one of their number, as the ship was about to sail away, volunteered to return. Tying a book containing a part of the Scriptures in a handkerchief on his head, and clothed in a shirt and trousers only, this true servant of Christ swam back, full of faith, to the rocks, on which stood several of the savages, brandishing their spears. His heart did not falter; he swam on bravely. He had true faith. He followed your rule, Ben; he was determined to do right, whatever was to come of it. He knew that it was right to carry the gospel to these poor savages; he would succeed, or perish in the attempt. Tapaeru from the first protected him, and obtained for him the support of her relations. This enabled him to speak openly to the people, who soon became eager to listen to the wonderful things he had to narrate. Still, he had much opposition to contend with. Tinomana, a powerful chief, was the first man of influence to give up his idols.

"Another native teacher afterwards joined Papehia; and in two years and a half, under the superintendence of these two native teachers,— themselves born heathens, and brought up in the darkness of idolatry, till called into the marvellous light of the gospel,—the whole of the population of that large island became professedly Christian. It was here that, soon after this, Mr Williams built his vessel, the Messenger of Peace, in which he sailed over so large a part of the Pacific. There are now numerous churches, schools, and a training college, from which many native missionaries have gone forth to preach the gospel in far distant islands.

"The conversion of the inhabitants of the Sandwich Islands was still more extraordinary. From the time that Captain Cook was killed on their shores, they had been looked on as among the most savage of the people of the Pacific. The Sandwich Islands, the largest of which is Hawaii, were ruled by a chief of great talent, who had made himself king of the whole group, and was called Tamehameha the First. He had entreated Captain Vancouver, who visited his territories in 1793, to send him Christian missionaries. No attention, however, was paid to this request. His son Rihoriho, who became king in 1820, seeing the utter folly of the religion of his ancestors, without being even urged to do so by foreigners, of his own accord threw off the gods of his people, burnt the idols and their temples, and upset the priesthood, and the whole system connected with it. In this extraordinary proceeding he was supported by the high priest himself, who acknowledged, when appealed to, that the gods they had hitherto worshipped were of no power, and that there was but one God in heaven, the same whom the white men worshipped.

"It was at this juncture that a band of missionaries arrived from the United States, sent out by the American Board of Missions. They were cordially welcomed by the king, most of his chiefs, and the people. Schools were established, churches built, and in a few years the whole of the people became nominally Christians, many of them really so; and civilisation advanced with rapid strides. Among no people, probably, has it made so much progress in so short a time. Still, I believe that among the Society Islands, at Raratonga, and other islands of the Hervey group, true Christianity more extensively prevails.

"The people of Savage Island, who were said to be among the fiercest and most barbarous of the natives of Polynesia, were converted much in the same way as those of Raratonga, and they are now simple-minded Christians, earnest, quiet, and well-behaved.

"In the large island of Tongatabu, and its adjacent islands, great disappointment was encountered by the first missionaries, who were ultimately driven away. In 1820, the Wesleyan Missionary Society sent missionaries there, and by their means the king, George, and the whole population have professed Christianity. The two societies together have laboured in the beautiful islands of Samoa, to the north; and there also Christianity has been generally established.

"Wonderful, also, is the change which has been brought about in a few years in Fiji, a large and beautiful group of islands lying to the west of Tonga. The inhabitants are nearly black, and a very fine and intelligent race of men; but they were even more addicted to cannibalism than the New Zealanders, and their customs were of the most revolting and cruel description. Thackombau, the greatest chief among them, was also a fierce cannibal. Fully aware of the character of the people, a band of Wesleyan missionaries landed on their shores, and by great perseverance have succeeded in bringing over a large number of the population to a knowledge of the truth, including the king himself and all his family; while the practice of cannibalism is almost, if not completely, extirpated.

"The numerous groups of islands to the north of New Zealand are known as Melanesia. The Presbyterian and London Missionary Societies have for a considerable time been at work in some of these islands. It was on one of them (Erromanga) that Williams met his death, and that Mr Murray and some native missionaries were murdered, while many have died of fever. They have, however, not laboured in vain, and the inhabitants of more than one island have abandoned idol-worship. To these groups, also, the Church of England, established in New Zealand, has turned its attention, under the direction of the Bishop of New Zealand, who made several voyages among them. Bishop Pattison, with the title of Bishop of Melanesia, has been especially appointed to superintend the work of evangelisation connected with them. A vessel called the Southern Cross makes a cruise twice a year among them. In the spring, she collects young men from all the islands and carries them to New Zealand, where they receive instruction in a college established for that purpose. As they can no more stand the cold climate of New Zealand in the winter than Europeans can stand the heat of their summer, in the autumn the Southern Cross carries them back to their own islands, where they instruct their countrymen in the religious knowledge and the arts they have learned during their absence. The French have sent Roman Catholic missionaries to several of these groups. They have taken possession of Tahiti; and have established colonies there, on the coast of New Guinea, and in the Marquesas. At Tahiti, the English Protestant missionaries were for a time prohibited from preaching, and compelled to leave the island. The greater number of the people, supported by the queen, remained firm to their Protestant principles; and at length a French Evangelical Society sent out Protestant pastors, and the people have now perfect religious liberty, though they remain subject to France.

"Notwithstanding the large number of islands in which Christianity has been firmly established, it is calculated that there are two hundred and fifty inhabited islands still sunk in the darkness of idolatry and savageism, so that there remains a very large amount of work to be done. There, I have given you a short account of missionary work in the Pacific. Another day I will get a chart, and show you the places I have spoken about. I will then tell you more respecting them. You will like especially to hear of Savage Island, or Niue, which I understand we are to visit, to inquire about some natives who, it is reported, have been carried away by the Chilian slavers."

Ben thanked Mr Martin very much for the information he had given him and Tom, and begged that he would give them a further account of Savage Island, as he had kindly offered to do.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MORE EXPLORATIONS AND ADVENTURES.

Shortly after the events mentioned in a former chapter, the Ajax came in sight of a cluster of mountains, rising, it seemed, directly out of the sea, to the height of four thousand feet. It was the island of Raratonga, of which Mr Martin had told Ben. It is surrounded by a curious barrier-reef of solid block coral, thirty-five miles in circumference, and from a quarter of a mile to half a mile broad. At high water it is completely covered to a depth of four or six feet, but at low water it is almost bare. This vast reef prevents the sea from breaking against the island. Outside the reef there is no anchorage ground, as no cable could fathom the depth. Inside, the water is smooth and beautifully clear, but no ship of any size can pass through the reef. There are several passages for canoes and boats, and one for a vessel of forty-five tons. This is, however, a very great advantage to the inhabitants in a social point of view, as it prevents the establishment of a seaport town in their island, while, at the same time, they can enjoy intercourse with the rest of the world. This was the very island of which Mr Williams had heard, and which he so long looked for before he found it. Here the missionary Papehia landed alone, trusting in Jehovah, among its then savage inhabitants. It was here the great missionary Williams spent many months, and built single-handed the schooner—the Messenger of Peace mentioned before—in which he crossed over so many thousand miles of the Pacific Ocean, to carry the glad tidings of great joy to many of the numerous islands scattered over it. It was here that a fierce chief, Tinomana, became a humble, lowly-minded Christian, and died strong in the faith. This is the island, the inhabitants of which were among the fiercest of all the isles of the Pacific, and are now among the most consistent and truest Christians. It has sent out more missionaries than any other to convert the heathen of the isles of the Pacific. It contains a training college for missionaries, with numerous churches and schools. The houses of the inhabitants are well-built, neat, and clean; and it is hardly too much to say that, in the same space, and among an equal number of people living together in any part of the world, a larger proportion of true and consistent Christians will not be found.

As soon as the frigate hove to, near the land, several canoes came off to welcome the well-known flag. The natives were decently dressed in shirts and trousers, with straw hats; and their manner was particularly quiet and at the same time cheerful. They offered to bring off any provisions which might be required; but the captain wished himself to go on shore, and said that he could then purchase what he wanted. Two whalers were at the time standing off and on the land, while their boats were on shore. Ben was glad to find that three boats from the frigate were going on shore, to one of which he belonged. A native pilot in his boat led the way, the captain's gig following; but, as the wind was light and the tide high, there was no difficulty in passing through the barrier, and, once inside, the boats were in smooth water.

The officer on landing was met by a respectable-looking native, who announced himself as the salesman of the station, putting out his right hand, and saying, "Ria-ora-na!" (Blessings on you.) The officers were then conducted to the market-house, where there were stores of bananas, yams, pumpkins, potatoes, cocoa-nuts, fowls, and various other articles. The purser of the frigate then stated the quantity of provisions he required. The salesman informed him of the current price, a calculation was made, the money was paid, and the salesman undertook to engage native boats, in which everything was taken off in excellent condition.

The captain first visited the mission establishment. It consisted of a centre building, and a great number of small houses. These were the residences of the married students; every single student had a room to himself. Nearly two hundred students have been educated at the college. A very important part of the establishment is the printing-press, which supplies with a number of valuable works, not only Raratonga, but numerous other islands of the Pacific where the dialect of the inhabitants is understood. The students also consist, not only of natives of the Hervey Islands, but young men from far distant places. In each village there are schools and churches and native pastors. Children also are brought from other islands to the chief school, under the English missionary, to receive instruction. Thus from this once savage country the true light now shines forth over a wide circle of the Pacific—that light brought to those shores by the once heathen Papehia!

When the boats got back to the frigate, Ben found that the captain of one of the whalers, the Grand Turk, was on board. Captain Judson—that was his name—was well-known to Mr Martin, who had once sailed with him. He was waiting to see Captain Bertram, to prefer some request or other. He was evidently a rough style of man, and was complaining much of the way he had been treated the day before, which was Sunday.

"Two boats were sent on shore, but none of the people were to be seen," said Captain Judson. "There were a number of neat, whitewashed houses in rows, some way from the beach, and near them three larger buildings. One had a tower. After waiting for some time, people came streaming out of the door of the building with the tower, all neatly dressed in cottons or native cloths.

"'Why, they look just as if they were coming out of church,' said one of my men, who had never been out in these parts before, and thought all the people were savages and cannibals. After some time, a white gentleman appeared in a black dress. 'And there comes the parson, I do declare!' he added.

"The first mate, who had charge of the party, on this went up to the gentleman, and told him what we had come for.

"'I am very glad to hear it,' said the gentleman. 'I have no doubt that to-morrow morning the people will bring you all you require.'

"'To-morrow won't do—we want the things to-day; we must be off again this evening,' said the mate, in an angry tone, for of course he was vexed.

"'I will tell the people what you say; but they have been taught to remember the Sabbath-day to keep it holy, and I do not think that they will supply you, unless you are starving, or have scurvy for want of vegetables, and then I am certain that they will give you all you require,' answered the missionary, who then spoke to several of the people; and a young native came forward, and in very good English told the mate that he was the interpreter, and would be glad to attend him. The mate thought that he could manage him, and was very much surprised to find that no trading could be allowed that day.

"'But our people may go on shore and amuse themselves?' said the mate.

"'No,' answered the young native. 'Too often the crews of whalers have come on shore, and have set a bad example to our people, who think a great deal about white men. We allow no strangers to wander about our island on the Sabbath.'

"'Then your people will come off to us, as they do at other islands!' said the mate.

"'No, no, no,' answered the young native, with a grave look. 'Such things were, but they were very bad; we have learned better now.'

"On hearing this, the mate came away, abusing the missionaries for having taught the natives such things. It is fair to say, however, that, as he was leaving the beach to come on board, a number of natives appeared with baskets of cooked vegetables and fruits, enough for the dinner of the whole crew. All the families near had given up some from their own store. I was in a hurry to be off, and sent on shore in the evening, offering to pay double for what we wanted; but the people were still obstinate.

"'To-morrow morning we will trade gladly,' was the answer.

"From every cottage came the sound of prayer, or voices singing hymns or psalms. Certainly these people, little better than savages as they are, do keep the Sunday very strictly. I never saw it kept like that elsewhere. Some people who care about those things might say that they put us to shame.

"The next morning, when we stood in at daybreak, the vessel was soon surrounded by canoes, full of all the provisions we wanted; and we were told that, if we required, men would be ready to help us fill our water-casks. Still, I don't like to be put out as we have been, and I shall go when next we want fresh provisions to one of the islands where things are carried on in the old-fashioned way."

Captain Judson had come on board to get some lime-juice, the best thing to prevent scurvy. He said that he had bought a good supply of what was called lime-juice; but, when the surgeon examined it, which he did when, in spite of the men using it, the scurvy appeared among them, he found that it was some common acid, of no use whatever. How horribly wicked were the manufacturers who could thus, in their greed for grain, knowingly destroy the health and lives of seamen who depended on their useless mixtures for preserving them from one of the most terrible maladies to which those who make long voyages are subject! Whether or not the owners of the Grand Turk had paid less for this mixture than they would have done for good lime-juice is difficult to say; but it might certainly have cost the whole crew their lives, and it certainly cost them the loss of some hundreds of pounds while the ship was sailing away to procure vegetables, with a third of her crew on the sick-list, instead of catching whales.

Captain Judson obtained the lime-juice for which he had come; indeed, the Ajax had brought out a quantity on purpose to supply ships which might require it. He then took his departure, and, whatever he might have thought, the rest of the crew continued to grumble greatly at not having been allowed to go on shore and amuse themselves, as they called it, and expressed a hope that it was the last missionary island they should touch at in their voyage.

The captain of the other whaler afterwards came on board. He was a wiser man than Captain Judson. He said that he made a point of visiting those islands where missionaries were established, as he was certain that he could then trust the people, whereas among the heathen islands he lived always in dread of having his boats' crews cut off, as had happened to many others to his knowledge.

On leaving Raratonga, the Ajax bore away for Savage Island, or Niue. Captain Cook describes the inhabitants as among the most savage of those he encountered. As his boat drew near to the shore, they rushed down towards him with the ferocity of wild boars to drive him away. In consequence of the behaviour of the natives, he gave it the name of Savage Island. Subsequent visitors, for many years after that, fully confirmed the account he gave of the people.

The Ajax came off the island about five days after leaving Raratonga. The two islands are about of an equal size, but in other respects are very unlike each other, as the highest part of Savage Island is not more than a hundred feet above the level of the sea. Instead of the savages Captain Cook encountered, and those who, as late as 1846, would have been on the coast, several canoes, with well-dressed, quiet-looking natives, came off to the ship. They all wore sad countenances, for they had indeed a tale of woe to tell. Captain Bertram inquired what had happened to them.

"Sad, sad," answered the interpreter. "Early one morning a strange ship appeared off the coast. We thought nothing of that, as many have come and gone and brought missionaries to us, and others have called for vegetables and other produce, for which they have paid. This one had no flag to tell us whence she came, or what was her object in coming. As soon as we had finished our usual morning prayer, several canoes put off with fruits and vegetables to take to the strangers, and to learn what else they required. Among those who went off were some of our leading men, the lawmakers and law-enforcers of our island. There were thirty or more church members, a deacon, and many candidates, most of them among our most promising young men. They were at once welcomed on board, and treated with great attention. Suddenly the white crew rushed in among them with clubs, knocked down all on deck, and then they fired their guns at those attempting to escape in their canoes. Several of the people in them were shot or drowned when the canoes were destroyed. The people in most of the canoes were so astonished that they did not even attempt to escape. Instantly they were ordered on board the strange ship, which continued firing at the retreating canoes. Three only of these got away, and one of them conveyed the corpse of Simeon, a church member, shot through the head. The stranger, finding that no other canoes would go off from this part of our island, sailed away, with our fathers and brothers, and our other Christian friends, on board. Our hearts were bowed down with grief; but we prayed earnestly that we might forgive our enemies, and that God, in His great mercy, would change their hearts. (A fact.) We would not curse them, we would not pray that God would wreak His vengeance on their heads; for are we not told that, as we forgive our enemies, so alone can we ask God to forgive us?"

The slaver, it appeared, had sailed along the coast, the natives being decoyed on board wherever met with, and then she had gone off to other islands to pursue the same nefarious system. Captain Bertram went on shore to make further inquiries. He found that all the inhabitants had professed Christianity, and that, though not so advanced as the natives of Raratonga, who have been so much longer tinder instruction, they were making fair progress in Christian, as well as in secular, knowledge and civilisation. As no time was to be lost, the Ajax again sailed in pursuit of the slaver. She first stood across to Samoa, in the direction of which the slaver had been seen to steer. She looked in at several of the ports of that fine group of islands, and here also gained information of the transactions of the slavers, for several had appeared, and succeeded in kidnapping many natives. It was supposed that some of these slave-ships had sailed to the north-east, purposing to visit the groups of islands lying on either side of the equator. Many islands were touched at, and inquiries made. A sharp look-out too was kept, for all were eager, from the captain to the youngest boy on board, to catch the miscreants who were outraging all laws, human and divine, in thus carrying off the innocent natives into slavery.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE FRIGATE IN DANGER.

One day, a sail was sighted, becalmed. The frigate carried the breeze up to her. At first it was hoped that she was a slaver. She proved, however, to be a whaler, the Grand Turk, whose captain had come on board the Ajax off Raratonga. As Captain Bertram wished to make inquiries of Captain Judson respecting the slavers, he invited him on board. The captain of the whaler seemed very much out of spirits. Before he went away, Mr Martin had a long talk with him, and inquired what was the matter.

"Why, Martin, I am afraid that I have been a very sinful and foolish man," he answered. "You shall hear what has occurred. You know how I used to abuse the missionaries, and say that they spoilt all the people they got among, and that I would never visit another missionary island if I could help it. Wishing to get more vegetables, we made for an island known to be heathen. We anchored in a sheltered bay, where I knew that the people would give us all we wanted for a mere song. We had soon plenty of natives on board, men and women. They danced and sang, and drank as much rum as our men would give them. I need not describe the scenes which took place. I must confess, what I now see to be the truth, that we have no business to call ourselves Christians, or civilised people, while we allow such things to occur. Yet they were not worse than have been carried on at many islands, ever since our whalers came to these seas.

"The next day a quantity of provisions were brought down to the beach, and, thinking the people so inclined to be friendly, I let a number of our men go on shore. I was in my cabin when I heard a shot. I ran on deck, and saw our men running towards the boats. Now and then they stopped and fired at a large band of natives, who were following them with clubs and spears. Another body of natives were rushing down on one side to try and cut off our men, and great numbers of others were launching canoes in all directions. I had very little hope that our men would escape, but to help them I had an anchor and cable carried out astern, by hauling on which we brought our broadside to bear on the boats. Our guns were then fired at the second party of natives of which I have spoken. This stopped them, or the whole of our men would have been cut off. We could not go to their assistance, as we had to remain on board to defend the ship from the canoes, which were now coming towards her. Two of our men had been killed before our eyes; the greater number were shoving off the boats. They had just got them afloat, when the savages, gaining courage, charged them. Two more of our poor fellows were knocked on the head. The rest jumped into the boats and pulled off from the beach. They had no time to fire. The canoes made chase after them. All we could do was to fire at the canoes with our big guns and muskets as they came on, hotly chasing the boats till they got alongside. The men climbed up the sides by the ropes we hove to them. We had barely time to hoist in the boats when the savages in vast numbers came round us, uttering the most fearful shrieks and cries. While some of my men kept them off with lances, and by firing down on them, others hove up the anchor and went aloft to loose sails. There was fortunately a fresh breeze off shore; our topsails filled, and we stood out of the bay, while the savages kept close round us, hoping, no doubt, that we should strike on a reef and become their easy prey. We had to fly here and there to keep them from gaining the deck, for as soon as one was driven back another took his place. Not till we were well outside the reef did they give up the attempt to take the ship. Not only had we lost the four men killed on the beach, but two others had been cut off in the boats, and several of those who got on board were badly wounded. I suspect that the savages had from the first intended to take the ship, for I could not make out that our men had given them any special cause of quarrel. I was thankful when we were well free of them, and I must confess to you, Martin, that you were right when you advised me to visit a Christian island instead of a heathen one. I cannot get over the loss of those poor fellows. It has been a severe lesson to me, and I am, I believe, a wiser man."

"I am very sorry for the loss of your people, Mr Judson, and yet God will rule the event for your good if you continue to see it in the light you now do," observed Mr Martin. "The example which our so-called Christian seamen have set to the natives of these islands has been fearful. Their behaviour has created one of the chief difficulties to the progress of the gospel with which the missionaries have had to contend. It is, humanly speaking, surprising that they have made any progress at all. Were it not indeed that God's hand has been in the work through the agency of the Holy Spirit, it is impossible that they could have succeeded."

Captain Judson did not, perhaps, clearly comprehend the meaning of all Mr Martin said; but he thanked him cordially for his remarks, and returned on board his ship with several religious and other books for his crew, and among them a Bible, which he confessed that he had not before got on board.

"What!" exclaimed Ben, when he heard this from Mr Martin; "a ship go to sea without a Bible! How can the people get on? how can they do their duty? I am afraid they must forget to say their prayers."

"You are right, Ben," observed Mr Martin; "there are very many ships that go to sea without Bibles, and the crews very often forget their duty to God and man. In my younger days, indeed, there were very few which took Bibles, and the exception was to find one. A praying, Bible-reading captain and ship's company was a thing almost unknown."

Ben, who had carefully preserved his Bible, prized it sincerely, and read it every day, was surprised to hear this. There were a good many men also on board the Ajax who had Bibles, and read them frequently. Sometimes some of the other boys had laughed at Ben when they found him reading his Bible, but he did not mind them, and went on reading steadily as before.

The account of the cruel way in which the natives had been kidnapped by the Peruvian slavers made everybody on board the Ajax eager to catch some of them. Night and day bright eyes were ever on the watch in different parts of the ship. This was especially necessary in those seas, where rocks and reefs abound; and though they are far better known than in Lord Anson's days, yet there are many parts but imperfectly explored.

Wherever the ship touched, Ben made his usual anxious inquiries for Ned. He, as before, frequently heard of Englishmen living with the savages; but they did not answer to the description of his brother. Still he had hopes that he should find him. Ben remembered his father's advice, and acted up to it: "Do right, whatever comes of it." By so doing he had gained the favour of his captain and all the officers of the ship. Everybody said, "Ben Hadden is a trustworthy fellow; whatever he undertakes to do he does with all his heart, as well as he possibly can."

Ben had consequently plenty to do; but then he reaped the reward of his doing. Sailors are often paid in a glass of grog for any work they do, and they are satisfied; but it was generally known that Ben had a widowed mother, to whom he wished to send home money; and therefore Ben was always paid in coin, and no one grudged it to him, knowing how well it would be employed.

A sailor's life is often a very rough one; but when people are thrown together for a cruise of four years, as were the crew of the Ajax, provided always they have a good captain and judicious officers, they wonderfully rub the rough edges off each other, and a kind and brotherly feeling springs up among them, which often lasts to the end of their lives. Such was the feeling which existed among the officers and ship's company of the Ajax. The officers treated the men with kindness and consideration, and the men obeyed their officers with alacrity.

Hitherto, the Pacific appeared deserving of the name bestowed on it. For many months the Ajax had experienced only fine weather. Undoubtedly, gales had blown, and heavy rains had fallen, during that period; but the ship had sailed across to the west, while they occurred on the eastern part; and afterwards, when she went back towards the American coast, the rains fell and the gales blew on the west. This was, however, not always to be so. One morning, when Ben went on deck to keep his watch, he found the sails hanging down against the masts, and the sea without the slightest ripple to break its mirror-like surface. Every now and then, however, it seemed slowly to rise like the bosom of some huge monster breathing in its sleep, and a smooth low wave heaved up under the ship's keel, and glided slowly away, to be followed at long intervals by other waves of the same character. As they passed, the ship rolled from side to side, or pitched gently into the water, and the sails, hitherto so motionless, flapped loudly against the masts with a sound like that of musketry. The heat was very great; the seamen, overcome by it, went about their various duties with much less than their usual alacrity. The smoke curled slowly up from the galley-funnel, wreathing itself in festoons about the fore-rigging, where it hung, unable, it seemed, to rise higher. Eight bells struck in the forenoon watch, the boatswain's whistle piped to dinner, and the mess-men were seen lazily moving along the deck, with their kids, to the galley-fire, to receive their portions of dinner from the black cook, who, with face shining doubly from the heat which none but a black cook or a German sugar-baker could have endured, was busily employed in serving it out to them. The smell of the good boiled beef or pork—very different from what our sailors once had—seemed to give them appetites, for they hastened back with the smoking viands to their mess-tables slung from the deck above. Here the men sat in rows, with their brightly-polished mess utensils before them, and soon gave proof that the heat had had no serious effect on their health.

It is usual to send all the men below at dinner-time, except those absolutely required to steer and look out, unless the weather is bad, and it is probable that any sudden change may be required to be made in the sails. Most of the officers on this occasion were on deck, slowly walking up and down in the shadow of the sails. Ben and Tom were at their mess-table, laughing and talking and enjoying themselves as boys do in an ordinarily happy ship.

"This is jolly!" observed Tom. "I like a calm, there's so little to do; and it's fair that the sails should have a holiday now and then. They must get tired of sending us along, month after month, as they have to do."

"I do not think they get much rest, after all, even now," said Ben. "Listen how they are flapping against the masts! If they had to do much of that sort of thing, they would soon wear themselves out. What a loud noise they make!"

"Oh yes; but that is only now and then, you see, just to show us that they have not gone to sleep as the wind has done, and are ready for use when we want them," remarked Tom, who had always a ready answer for any observation made by Ben; too ready sometimes, for he thus turned aside many a piece of good advice which his friend gave him. "At all events, the ship can't be getting into any mischief while she is floating all alone out here, away from the land," he added. "If I was the captain, I would turn in and go to sleep till the wind begins to blow again."

Tom did not know how little sleep the captain of a large ship, with the lives of some hundred men confided to him, ventures to take.

Captain Bertram was on deck, walking with Mr Charlton. He stopped, and earnestly looked towards the north-east His keen eye had detected a peculiar colour in the water extending across the horizon in that direction. He pointed it out to Mr Charlton. "What does it seem to you like!" he asked.

"A coral reef, sir. If so, we have been drifting towards it; I should otherwise have seen it in the morning," answered the first lieutenant. "I will, however, go aloft, and make sure what it is."

In spite of the intense heat, Mr Charlton climbed up to the masthead. He carefully scanned the horizon in every direction, and then speedily returned on deck.

"We are nearer to the reef than I had supposed, sir," he said. "We may keep the boats ahead, and somewhat hinder the ship driving so rapidly towards it; but it is evident that a strong current sets in that direction. Had it been at night, we should have struck before we could have seen it."

"Pipe the hands on deck, then, Mr Charlton," answered the captain calmly. "If towing is to serve us, there is no time to be lost."

Mr Martin was sent for, and his shrill whistle soon brought the whole of the crew tumbling up from below, the landsmen and idlers only remaining to stow away the mess things.

The boats were soon lowered and manned, and sent ahead. The hot sun shone down on the men in the boats as they toiled away to keep the ship's head off the reef. It seemed, however, that they rowed to little purpose; for the undulations appeared at shorter intervals, and seemed to send the frigate towards the threatening rocks, on which a surf, not at first perceived, now began to break, forming a white streak across the horizon.

The sails were brailed up, but not furled, in order that they might again be at once set, should a breeze spring up to fill them.

Mr Charlton stood on the forecastle, directing the boats how to pull. Every now and then he cast an anxious eye astern towards the breakers, which continued to rise higher and higher. A cast of the deep-sea lead was taken, but no bottom was found. To anchor was, therefore, impossible. Everybody on board saw the fearful danger in which the frigate was placed. One thing only, it seemed, could save her—a breeze from the direction towards which she was drifting. All eyes, not otherwise employed, were glancing anxiously round the horizon, looking out for the wished-for breeze. Ben and Tom were as active as usual. They remained on board, as only the strongest men were sent into the boats; it was trying even for men. They continued rowing, and, encouraged by their officers, as hard as they had ever before rowed. Suddenly, without a moment's warning, the captain ordered them to return on board.

"Hoist in the boats!" he shouted. "Be smart now, my lads!"

As the boats were being hoisted in, the spoon-drift began to fly across the surface of the hitherto calm ocean, hissing along like sand on the desert. The hitherto smooth undulations now quickly broke up into small waves, increasing rapidly in size and length, with crests of foam crowning their summits.

Directly the boats were secured, the captain shouted, "Hands shorten sail!" The men with alacrity sprang into the rigging and lay out on the yard. The three topsails were closely reefed; all the other square sails were furled. There was a gravity in the look of the captain and officers which, showed that they considered the position in which the ship was placed very dangerous.

Dark clouds now came rushing across the sky, increasing in numbers and density. Even before the men were off the yards, the hurricane struck the frigate. Over she heeled to it, till it seemed as if she would not rise again; but the spars were sound, the ropes good. Gradually she again righted, and, though still heeling over very much, answered her helm, and tore furiously through the foaming and loudly-roaring seas. The captain stood at the binnacle, now anxiously casting his eye along the reef, now at the sails, then at the compass in the binnacle, and once more giving a glance to windward. The ship's company were at their stations ready to obey any order that their officers might issue. Four of the best men were at the wheel, others were on the look-out forward. Not a word was spoken. The wind increased rather than lessened after it first broke on the frigate. Had it been a point more from the eastward, it would have driven her to speedy destruction. As it was, it enabled her to lie a course parallel to the reef; but, notwithstanding this, the leeway she made, caused by the heavy sea and the fury of the gale, continued to drive her towards it, and the most experienced even now dreaded that she would be unable to weather the reef.

The hurricane blew fiercer and fiercer. The frigate heeled over till her lee ports were buried in the foaming, hissing caldron of boiling waters through which she forced her way. It was with difficulty the people could keep their feet. The captain climbed up into the weather mizzen rigging, and there he stood holding on to a shroud, conning the ship, as calm to all appearance as if he had been beating up Plymouth Sound. The men at the helm kept their eyes alternately on him and on the sails, ready to obey the slightest sign he might make. Although the topsails were close reefed, they seemed to bend the spars and masts as they tugged and strained to be free; Mr Martin, the boatswain, kept his eye anxiously on them. Now was the time to prove whether the spars were sound, and, if they were sound, whether the rigging had been properly set up, and if that also was sound throughout. A ship, like a human being, is best tried in adversity; it is not in smooth seas and with gentle breezes that her qualities can be proved, any more than the nature of a man can be ascertained if all goes smoothly and easily with him. Therefore, let no one venture to put confidence in himself, till he has been tossed about by the storms of life, and by that time he will have learned that he is weak and frail under all circumstances, unless sustained by the power of the Holy Spirit, who is alone able to keep him from falling. Ben and Tom had crept up to near where Mr Martin was standing. He saw them exchanging looks with each other.

"There'll be a watery grave for all on board if the spars go," observed Mr Gimblet. "Still, it's a satisfaction to believe that they are as sound sticks as ever grew."

"It's just providential that we set up our rigging only t'other day. If this gale had caught us with it as it was before that time, we might have cried good-bye to our spars, sound as they are," said Mr Martin. "Even now, I wish that the wind would come a point or two more on our quarter; we make great leeway, there's no doubt about that."

Ben and Tom overheard these remarks of the two warrant-officers. Ben fully understood the danger the ship was in, and that before an hour or so was over he and all on board might be in a watery grave; for he saw how impossible it would be for the stoutest ship to hold together if she once struck on the reef to leeward, the fearful character of which had now become more distinct than ever. The sea broke against it with terrific force, rising high up in a wall of water, and then fell curling back on the side from which it came. Not the strongest swimmer could exist for a minute among those breakers. Far away ahead it seemed to extend in one long unbroken line.

The hearts of many on board began to sink; not with unmanly fear, but life was sweet; they had many loved ones in their far distant homes, and they could not but see that long before the frigate could reach the distant point she must drift on the reef. By the loss of one of her sails she would be sent there within a very few minutes. Ben and Tom, young as they were, could not fail clearly to comprehend their danger. Ben did not tremble; he did not give way to tears, or to any weak fears, but he turned his heart to God. To Him the young lad prayed that He would protect his mother: he tried to think of what he had done wrong, that he might earnestly repent; and then he threw himself on the love and mercy of Jesus. "On Thee, O Lord Jesus, on Thee, in Thee I trust," he kept saying. All this time, however, his attention was awake; his eyes were open, and his ears ready to receive any order that might be given. Such is the state of mind, such the way in which many a Christian sailor has met death.