Of one such exploit I can give the account of an
eye-witness. "Portuguese Joe," Mr. Keane's cook, was once pulling an oar
in an Atuona boat, when they spied a stranger in a canoe with some fish
and a piece of tapu. The Atuona men cried upon him to draw near and have
a smoke. He complied, because, I suppose, he had no choice; but he knew,
poor devil, what he was coming to, and (as Joe said) "he didn't seem to
care about the smoke." A few questions followed, as to where he came
from, and what was his business. These he must needs answer, as he must
needs draw at the unwelcome pipe, his heart the while drying in his
bosom. And then, of a sudden, a big fellow in Joe's boat leaned over,
plucked the stranger from his canoe, struck him with a knife in the
neck--inward and downward, as Joe showed in pantomime more expressive
than his words--and held him under water, like a fowl, until his
struggles ceased. Whereupon the long-pig was hauled on board, the boat's
head turned about for Atuona, and these Marquesan braves pulled home
rejoicing. Moipu was on the beach and rejoiced with them on their
arrival. Poor Joe toiled at his oar that day with a white face, yet he
had no fear for himself. "They were very good to me--gave me plenty
grub: never wished to eat white man," said he.

If the most horrible experience was Mr. Stewart's, it was Captain Hart
himself who ran the nearest danger. He had bought a piece of land from
Timau, chief of a neighbouring bay, and put some Chinese there to work.
Visiting the station with one of the Godeffroys, he found his Chinamen
trooping to the beach in terror; Timau had driven them out, seized their
effects, and was in war attire with his young men. A boat was despatched
to Taahauku for reinforcement; as they awaited her return, they could
see, from the deck of the schooner, Timau and his young men dancing the
war-dance on the hill-top till past twelve at night; and so soon as the
boat came (bringing three gendarmes, armed with chassepots, two white
men from Taahauku station, and some native warriors) the party set out
to seize the chief before he should awake. Day was not come, and it was
a very bright moonlight morning, when they reached the hill-top where
(in a house of palm-leaves) Timau was sleeping off his debauch. The
assailants were fully exposed, the interior of the hut quite dark; the
position far from sound. The gendarmes knelt with their pieces ready,
and Captain Hart advanced alone. As he