The Cruise of the Mary Rose | Page 6

seas as ever sent tall ships to the bottom. Grant that we do not
encounter the loss and disaster met with by Lord Anson, whose voyage
I have been reading. Hitherto a kind Providence has favoured us, and
we are standing up along the coast of Chili, the lofty Andes rising blue
and distinct against the sky in the distance.
CHAPTER THREE.
TAHITI IN HEATHEN DAYS.
Anchored in the Bay of Conception to obtain meat and vegetables, and

to refresh our ship's company. The town whence we obtained supplies
is Talcaguana, the old town of Conception having been destroyed by an
earthquake, and the new town standing some way inland. It is a wealthy
place--no lack of silver and gold utensils in the houses, and flocks and
herds outside, but the inhabitants lead uneasy lives, for not far off
beyond the mountains are found tribes of fierce Araucanians, who,
riding fleet horses, now and again pounce down on the town, and never
fail to carry off a rich booty. They care not for the Spanish artillery and
musketry, they keep out of range of them; but might not the power of
gospel truth spoken in season change their savage natures? Could some
Christian men find their way among them, they might tell them of
happier employments than killing each other, and robbing their
neighbours. Yet I dream. Such seems to be the chief occupation, not
only of savages, but of civilised people all over the world. What power
can assuage such a flood of iniquity? There is one and one alone, the
bright light of gospel truth, and the living power of Divine grace.
Having shipped our stores, the boat was leaving the shore for the last
time, when a brown man, dressed as a seaman, with strange marks on
his face and hands, came down begging to be taken on board. His name
he said was Taro, and that he was a native of an island far to the west,
also that he had long been on board an English ship, the master of
which had left him here sick. Captain Fuller believing his tale, and well
pleased to obtain the services of one who might prove useful as an
interpreter, consented to receive him among the crew. Our ship's
company gave him at first the name of Tar, and hence he soon became
known among them as Tom Tar. He proves an amusing, and seemingly
a good-natured fellow till he is angered, and then he will cast off his
clothes, and seizing a billet of wood or whatever comes to hand, will
flourish it, threatening the lives of all near him, exhibiting his body
covered with strange devices, appearing, as he is still, the fierce,
vindictive savage. He comes from an island called New Zealand, where
the inhabitants are terribly fierce, and undoubted cannibals. I asked
Taro whether he had ever eaten any of his fellow-creatures. He nodded,
laughing, and I doubt not, from the expression of his countenance, that
he had often done so, and would not hesitate in again indulging in such
a practice. Though living so long among men professing to be

Christians, he is still a heathen in all his thoughts and ways. I asked him
one day how this was. His answer was simple: "They say and do just
what heathen man say and do. They no pray to their God; they no care
for their God; they no love their God. Why should I?"
Taro spoke the truth; I felt abashed. How can we expect the heathen to
become Christians, when those who call themselves so show so little
regard to the religion of Christ? I see the same sad shortcoming on
shore. Christians do not strive to bring honour to the name of Christ.
For three weeks and more we traverse the Pacific, keeping bright
look-out by night and day for rocks and reefs.
"Land on the starboard bow," is the cry. We haul up for it. As the ship
rises and falls on the long, slow swell, now the trees appear partly out
of the water, now they disappear looking thus at a distance like a fleet
at anchor. There are cocoa-nut palms, pandanus trees, and many shrubs,
growing on a low island, fifteen feet at most above the level of the sea,
some twelve miles long, and not a quarter of a mile wide, with a deep
blue lagoon inside. This is one of those wonderful coral islands of
which I have read, formed by minute insects working upwards from
rocky foundations amid the ocean, and ceasing their work when they
have reached the surface. The waves have torn off masses and thrown
them up so as to form an elevation above the water; then birds have
come, dropped seeds, and