es' hair, they could acquire for themselves in a much
more efficacious manner the valour and other estimable qualities of the
departed warrior.

Whilst I was on this subject I also advised them strongly and
impressively never wantonly to attack white men, but rather to make
friendly advances towards them. I often wonder now whether explorers who
follow in my track will notice the absence of cannibalism and the
friendly overtures of the natives.

Two half painful, half merry years, passed by. We had seen several ships
passing out at sea, and on more than one occasion Yamba and I, taught by
previous lessons, had jumped into our canoe and pulled for many miles in
the direction of the sail, leaving the girls watching us eagerly from the
shore. But it was always useless, and we were compelled to return
without having accomplished our purpose; we merely inflicted additional
pain on ourselves.

I now come to what is possibly the most painful episode of my career, and
one which I find it impossible to discuss, or write about, without very
real pain. Even at this distance of time I cannot recall that tragic day
without bitter tears coming into my eyes, and being afflicted with a
gnawing remorse which can never completely die in my heart. Do not, I
beg of you, in considering my actions, ask me why I did not do this, or
that, or the other. In terrible crises I believe we become almost
mechanical, and are not responsible for what we do. I have often thought
that, apart from our own volition, each set of nerves and fibres in our
being has a will of its own.

Well, one gloriously fine day we sighted a ship going very slowly across
the gulf, several miles away. Would to God we had never seen her! We
were thrown, as usual, into a perfect frenzy of wild excitement, and the
girls dashed here and there like people possessed. Of course, I
determined to intercept the vessel if possible, and the girls at once
expressed their intention of coming with me. I attempted earnestly to
dissuade them from this, but they wept pitifully and implored me to let
them come. They were filled with an ungovernable longing to get away--the
same longing, perhaps, that animates a caged bird who, although well fed
and kindly treated, soars away without a moment's hesitation when an
opportunity occurs. Quite against my better judgment, I let them come.
Every second was precious and every argument futile. While Yamba was
getting ready the canoe I