Another old acquaintance named Nipati joined him, and it was considered safe to row into the harbour.  The Bishop had learnt a little of the language, and talked to these two, while Patteson examined Nipati’s accoutrements—­a club, a bow, arrows neatly made, handsomely feathered, and tipped with a deadly poison, tortoiseshell ear-rings, and a very handsome shell armlet covering the arm from the elbow eight or nine inches upward, his face painted red and black.  The Bishop read out the list of names he had made on the former visit, and to several the answer was ’dead, or ‘shot,’ and it appeared that a great mortality had taken place.  Large numbers, however, were on the beach, and the Bishop and Patteson landed among them, and conversed with them; but they showed no disposition to trade, and though some of the lads seemed half-disposed to come away with the party, they all changed their minds, and went back again.  However, all had behaved well, and one little boy, when offered a fish-hook, at once showed that he had received one already.  It was plain that a beginning had been made, which might lead to further results.

Two whales were seen while rowing back to the ship.  One—­about a third of a mile off—­leapt several times fairly out of the water, and fell back on the sea ‘with a regular crack,’ dashing up the spray in clouds.  There was now very little time to spare, as the time of an ordination at Auckland was fixed, and two important visits had yet to be paid, so the two Fate guests were sent ashore in the canoes of some of their friends, and the ‘Southern Cross’ reached Nengone on the 1st of September.  The Bishop had left a boat there some years before, and the Samoan teacher, Mark, who had been Mrs. Nihill’s best friend and comforter, came out in it with a joyful party full of welcome.  The Bishop and Patteson went ashore, taking with them their two Bauro scholars, to whom the most wonderful sight was a cow, they never having seen any quadruped bigger than a pig.  All the native teachers and their wives were assembled, and many of the people, in front of the house where Mr. Nihill had died.  They talked of him with touching affection, as they told how diligently he had striven to bring young and old to a knowledge of his God; and they eagerly assisted in planting at his grave a cross, which the Bishop had brought from Auckland for the purpose, and which bore the words:  ’I am the Resurrection and the Life.’

The coral lime church and the houses of the teachers among the cocoa-nut trees gave the place a civilised look, and most of the people had some attempt at clothing.  Here several passengers were taken in.  The two girls, Caroline Wabisane and Sarah Wasitutru, were both married—­Caroline to a Maori named Simeona, and Sarah to a man from her own isle called Nawiki.  All these and two more men wished to go to St. John’s for further instruction, and were taken on board, making up a party of fourteen Melanesians, besides Sarah’s baby.  ‘Mrs. Nihill will be glad to have the women,’ writes Coley, ’and I am glad to have the others—­not the baby, of course.’