transportation of the cows and horses was the most serious
part of the undertaking, the pinnace not being constructed to receive
such animals. Room, nevertheless, could be made for one at a time, and
still leave sufficient space in the stern-sheets for the accommodation
of five or six persons. It was very desirable to get the females away
first, lest the rumour of the mountain, hitherto unknown, should spread
among the islands, and bring them visitors who might prove to be
troublesome, if not dangerous. Parties existed in Betto's group, as we
believe they exist everywhere else; and Bob knew very well that nothing
but the ascendancy of his friend, the chief, Ooroony, had been the means
of his escaping as well as he did, in the land-fall among them that he
had made. The smallest reverse of fortune might put Betto down, and some
bitter foe up, and then there was the certainty that war canoes might
come off in quest of the mountain, at any time, without asking the leave
of the friendly chief, even while he remained in power. On the whole,
therefore, it was determined to freight the pinnace with the most
valuable of the effects, put all the females on board, and send her off
under the care of Mark, Heaton, and Socrates, leaving Bob and Bigelow to
look after the stock and the rest of the property. It was supposed the
boat might be absent a week. This was done accordingly, Bob, on taking
leave of Friend Martha, particularly recommending to her attention the
Vulcan's Peak reed-birds, throwing in a hint that he should be glad to
find a string of them in the pinnace, on her return.

The voyage to windward was a much more serious business than the run to
leeward. By Bob's advice Mark reefed his mainsail, and took the bonnet
off the jib. Following the same instructions, he stood away to the
southward, letting the boat go through the water freely, intending to
tack when he came near the volcano, and not before. This was what Bob
himself had done, and that which had turned out so well with him, he
fancied might succeed with his friend. The Neshamony left Rancocus
Island just at sunset. Next morning Mark saw the smoke of the Volcano,
and stood for it. After making two stretches he came up within a league
of this spot, when he tacked and stood to the northward and eastward,
Vulcan's Peak having been in plain view the entire day. As respects the
volcano, it was in a comparatively quiet state, though rumbling sounds
were heard, and stone