Some days had gone by, when one morning, as Paddy Doyle was on the
watch, he sang out, "Here comes my old friend with his wife and
family.--The top of the morning to ye, Mr Pullingo! and the same to the
misthress and the darling little ones; and, to be sure, one of them is a
big sthrapping fellow, of whom ye may be proud, Mr Pullingo."

On looking out, we saw the native who had before paid us a visit,
accompanied by a youth the very picture of himself, and followed by a
woman, or "gin," as the natives call their wives, with two children, a
boy and a girl, trotting by her side. The lad might have been his son,
certainly, but not that of the woman, who was apparently much too young
to be the mother of so big a fellow.

The woman and children stopped at some distance off, while the man and
lad approached cautiously, holding a bundle of lances in their left
hand. Paddy made signs to them to come on, and, to give them
confidence, put down his musket on the ground. As he did so they laid
down their lances and came much nearer. On this Paddy advanced towards
them. The savages seemed to understand him, and put out their hands,
which he took and shook heartily, apparently much to their astonishment.
The Irishman and the elder native then talked away, each in his own
language; Paddy every now and then bursting into a fit of laughter at
the strange words uttered by the savage.

Knowing that it was important to gain the good-will of the natives, I
thought that it would be a good opportunity to make Pullingo a present.
So I went into the cottage and asked my father, who had only just risen,
for some beads and a looking-glass, and other trinkets, which he had
brought to trade with the South Sea Islanders. I got things enough for
each of the party, including the two children, and going up to the
savage, I presented them to him, and tried to make him understand for
whom they were each intended. Though he took them he looked at them
with indifference, considering, as it seemed, that they were of no value
to him; nor, indeed, were they so in reality.

"Perhaps he would rather have some roast parrot," observed Doyle, who
had just before placed several birds on spits before the fire to cook
for breakfast. As we had many more than we absolutely required, we
could easily spare them. Doyle and I therefore got each a couple, and
carried them on the spits to the savage, whose eyes brightened when he
saw them; and he and his son al