ious work had been accomplished, the energetic
missionary--who ultimately laid down his life in one of these islands
[_The Island of Erramanga_] for the sake of Jesus Christ--resolved to go
himself in search of other islands in which to plant the Gospel, and to
send out native teachers with the same end in view. The record of their
labours reads more like a romance than a reality, but we cannot afford
to diverge longer from the course of our narrative. It was one of these
searching parties of native teachers that had visited the Big Chief's
island as already described, and it was their glowing words and
representations that had induced him to undertake this voyage to
Raratonga.

Big Chief of course occupied the largest of the four canoes, and our
friend Jarwin sat on a seat in front of him--painted and decorated like
a native warrior, and wielding a paddle like the rest. Of course Cuffy
had been left behind.

Poor Jarwin had, during his captivity, undergone the process of being
tatooed from head to foot. It had taken several months to accomplish
and had cost him inexpressible torture, owing to the innumerable
punctures made by the comb-like instrument with which it was done on the
inflamed muscles of his body. By dint of earnest entreaty and much
song, he had prevailed on Big Chief to leave his face and hands
untouched. It is doubtful if he would have succeeded in this, despite
the witching power of his melodious voice, had he not at the same time
offered to paint his own face in imitation of tatooing, and accomplished
the feat to such perfection that his delighted master insisted on having
his own painted forthwith in the same style.

During a pause in their progress, while the paddlers were resting, Big
Chief made his captive sit near him.

"You tell me that Cookee-men" (by which he meant white men) "never lie,
never deceive."

"I shud lie an' deceive myself, if I said so," replied Jarwin, bluntly.

"What did you tell me, then?" asked the Chief, with a frown.

"I told you that _Christian_ men don't lie or deceive--leastwise they
don't do it with a will."

"Are _you_ a Christian man, Jowin?"

"I am," replied the sailor promptly. Then with a somewhat perplexed
air, "Anyhow I _hope_ I am, an' I try to act as sitch."

"Good, I will soon prove it. You will be near the Cookee-men of
Raratonga to-morrow. You will have chance to go with them and leave me;
but if you do, or if you speak one word of Cookee-