e
outlander among them, a wiry old man, an American whaleman, who had
been settled on the Island for many years; he it was who steered the
boat, and he knew a little of navigation.

Their talk was mostly of ships that had visited the Island, and they
asked us to run over the names of the ships that were at 'Frisco when
we left; when we mentioned a ship that they knew, they were eager to
know how it fared with her people. They had fine memories. They could
name the Captain and Mates of each ship; of the whalers they had the
particulars even down to the bulk of oil aboard. They seemed to take a
pleasure in learning our names, and, these known, they let pass no
opportunity of using them, slipping them into sentences in the oddest
manner. They themselves had few surnames--Adams, Fletcher, Christian,
and Hobbs (the names of their forefathers, the stark mutineers of the
_Bounty_)--but their Christian names were many and curious, sometimes
days of the week or even dates. They told us that there was a child
named after our Old Man, who had called off the Island the day after it
was born, five years ago; a weird name for a lassie! In one way the
Islanders had a want. They had no sense of humour. True, they laughed
with us at some merry jest of our Irish cook, but it was the laugh of
children, seeing their elders amused, and though they were ever
cheery-faced and smiling, they were strangely serious in their outlook.

We had light winds, and made slow progress, and it was the afternoon of
the second day when we saw Pitcairn, rising bold and solitary, on the
lee bow. The sun had gone down before we drew nigh, and the Island
stood sharp outlined against the scarlet and gold of a radiant western
sky. Slowly the light failed, and the dark moonless night found us
lifting lazily to the swell off the north point. The Islanders manned
their boats and made off to the landing place. It was clock calm, and
we heard the steady creak of their oars long after the dark had taken
them. We drifted close to the land, and the scent of trees, lime and
orange, was sweetly strange.

The boats were a long time gone, and the Old Man was growing impatient,
when we heard voices on the water, and saw, afar off, the gleam of
phosphorescence on the dripping oars. We heard the cheery hail, "The
_Florence_, ahoy!" and burned a blue light to lead them on.

There were many new men in the boats, and they brought a cargo of fruit
and vegetables t