"I've been prepared and had my mind made up long ago," cried Peterkin, swaggering about the deck with his hands thrust into his breeches' pockets. 'The fact is, Jack, I don't believe that Tararo will be so ungrateful as to eat us; and I'm quite sure that he'll be too happy to grant us whatever we ask; so the sooner we go in and win the better."
Peterkin was wrong, however, in his estimate of savage gratitude, as the sequel will show.
The schooner was now put before the wind, and, after making a long run to the south'ard, we put about and beat up for the south side of Mango, where we arrived before sunset, and hove-to off the coral reef. Here we awaited the arrival of a canoe, which immediately put off on our rounding to. When it arrived, a mild-looking native, of apparently forty years of age, came on board, and, taking off his straw hat, made us alow bow. He was clad in a respectable suit of European clothes; and the first words he uttered, as he stepped up to Jack and shook hands with him, were,—
"Good day, gentlemen; we are happy to see you at Mango—you are heartily welcome."
After returning his salutation, Jack exclaimed, "You must be the native missionary teacher of whom I have heard—are you not?"
"I am. I have the joy to be a servant of the Lord Jesus at this station."
"You're the very man I want to see, then," replied Jack; "that's lucky. Come down to the cabin, friend, and have a glass of wine. I wish particularly to speak with you. My men there" (pointing to Peterkin and me) " will look after your people."
"Thank you," said the teacher, as he followed Jack
