e horizon. Suddenly the gaze became intent, and, leaning
forward with an eager expression, he shaded his eyes with his hand.

"It's not creditable," he murmured, as he fell back again into his
former listless attitude, "it's not creditable for an old salt like me
to go mistakin' sea-gulls for sails, as I've bin doin' so often of late.
I'm out o' practice, that's where it is."

"Come, John Adams," he added, after another pause, and jumping up
smartly, "this will never do. Rouse yourself, John, an' give up this
mumble-bumble style o' thing. Why, it'll kill you in the long-run if
you don't. Besides, you promised Mr Young to carry on the work, and
you must keep your promise, old boy."

"Yes," rang out a clear sweet voice from the inner end of the cave, "and
you promised to give up coming here to mope; so you must keep your
promise to me as well, father."

Otaheitan Sally tripped into the cave, and seating herself on the stone
ledge opposite, beamed up in the sailor's face.

"You're a good girl, Sall, an' I'll keep my promise to you from this day
forth; see if I don't. I'll make a note of it in the log."

The log to which Adams here referred was a journal or register, which
Edward Young had begun to keep, and in which were inserted the incidents
of chief interest, including the births and deaths, that took place on
the island from the day of landing. After Young's death, John Adams
continued to post it up from time to time.

The promise to Sally was faithfully kept. From that time forward, Adams
gave up going to the outlook, except now and then when anything unusual
appeared on the sea, but never again to mope. He also devoted himself
with increased assiduity to the instruction of the women and children in
Bible truths, although still himself not very clear in his own mind as
to the great central truth of all. In this work he was ably assisted by
Sally, and also by Young's widow, Susannah.

We have mentioned this woman as being one of the youngest of the
Otaheitans. She was also one of the most graceful, and, strange to say,
though it was she who killed Tetaheite, she was by nature one of the
gentlest of them all.

The school never became a prison-house to these islanders, either women
or children. Adams had wisdom enough at first to start it as a sort of
play, and never fell into the civilised error of giving the pupils too
much to do at a time. All the children answered the daily summons to
school wit