"Yes," said I, "so Bill gave me to understand. He told me, however, that, at the southern side of it, the missionaries had obtained a footing amongst an insignificant tribe. A native teacher had been sent there by the Wesleyans, who had succeeded in persuading the chief at that part to embrace Christianity. But instead of that being of any advantage to our enterprise, it seems the very reverse; for the chief Tararo is a determined heathen, and persecutes the Christians,—who are far too weak in numbers to offer any resistance,—and looks with dislike upon all white men, whom he regards as propagators of the new faith."
"Tis a pity," said Jack, "that the Christian tribe is so small, for we shall scarcely be safe under their protection, I fear. If Tararo takes it into his head to wish for our vessel, or to kill ourselves, he could take us from them by force. You say that the native missionary talks English?"
"So I believe."
"Then, what I propose is this," said Jack: "We will run round to the south side of the island, and cast anchor off the Christian village. We are too far away just now to have been descried by any of the savages, so we shall get there unobserved, and have time to arrange our plans before the heathen tribes know of our presence. But, in doing this, we run the risk of being captured by the ill-disposed tribes, and being very ill-used, if not —a—"
"Roasted alive and eaten," cried Peterkin. "Come, out with it, Jack; according to your own showing, it's well to look the danger straight in the face!"
"Well, that is the worst of it, certainly. Are you prepared, then, to take your chance of that?"
