them, for our crew was small, and if we had gone ashore they would
likely have killed us all. We never saw the three men again. But we
heard frightful yelling and dancing and merrymaking that night; and one
of the natives, who came aboard to trade with us next day, told us that
the _long pigs_, as he called the men, had been roasted and eaten, and
their bones were to be converted into sail-needles. He also said that
white men were bad to eat, and that most o' the people on shore were
sick."

I was very much shocked and cast down in my mind at this terrible
account of the natives, and asked Bill what he would advise me to do.
Looking round the deck to make sure that we were not overheard, he
lowered his voice and said, "There are two or three ways that we might
escape, Ralph, but none o' them's easy. If the captain would only sail
for some o' the islands near Tahiti we might run away there well enough,
because the natives are all Christians; an' we find that wherever the
savages take up with Christianity they always give over their bloody
ways, and are safe to be trusted. I never cared for Christianity
myself," he continued in a soliloquising voice, "and I don't well know
what it means; but a man with half-an-eye can see what it does for these
black critters. However, the captain always keeps a sharp lookout after
us when we get to these islands, for he half-suspects that one or two o'
us are tired of his company. Then we might manage to cut the boat
adrift some fine night when it's our watch on deck, and clear off before
they discovered that we were gone. But we would run the risk o' bein'
caught by the blacks. I wouldn't like to try that plan. But you and I
will think over it, Ralph, and see what's to be done. In the meantime
it's our watch below, so I'll go and turn in."

Bill then bade me good-night and went below, while a comrade took his
place at the helm; but feeling no desire to enter into conversation with
him, I walked aft, and leaning over the stern, looked down into the
phosphorescent waves that gurgled around the rudder, and streamed out
like a flame of blue light in the vessel's wake. My thoughts were very
sad, and I could scarce refrain from tears as I contrasted my present
wretched position with the happy, peaceful time I had spent on the Coral
Island with my dear companions. As I thought upon Jack and Peterkin,
anxious forebodings crossed my mind, and I pictured to myself the grief
and dism