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- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.153Z
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- 10512
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- CHAPTER LXXVII.
A PARTY OF ROVERS—LITTLE LOO AND THE DOCTOR
While in Partoowye, we fell in with a band of six veteran rovers,
prowling about the village and harbour, who had just come overland from
another part of the island.
A few weeks previous, they had been paid off, at Papeetee, from a
whaling vessel, on board of which they had, six months before, shipped
for a single cruise; that is to say, to be discharged at the next port.
Their cruise was a famous one; and each man stepped upon the beach at
Tahiti jingling his dollars in a sock.
Weary at last of the shore, and having some money left, they clubbed,
and purchased a sail-boat; proposing a visit to a certain uninhabited
island, concerning which they had heard strange and golden stories. Of
course, they never could think of going to sea without a medicine-chest
filled with flasks of spirits, and a small cask of the same in the hold
in case the chest should give out.
Away they sailed; hoisted a flag of their own, and gave three times
three, as they staggered out of the bay of Papeetee with a strong
breeze, and under all the “muslin” they could carry.
Evening coming on, and feeling in high spirits and no ways disposed to
sleep, they concluded to make a night of it; which they did; all hands
getting tipsy, and the two masts going over the side about midnight, to
the tune of
“Sailing down, sailing down, On the coast of Barbaree.”
Fortunately, one worthy could stand by holding on to the tiller; and
the rest managed to crawl about, and hack away the lanyards of the
rigging, so as to break clear from the fallen spars. While thus
employed, two sailors got tranquilly over the side, and went plumb to
the bottom, under the erroneous impression that they were stepping upon
an imaginary wharf to get at their work better.
After this, it blew quite a gale; and the commodore, at the helm,
instinctively kept the boat before the wind; and by so doing, ran over
for the opposite island of Imeeo. Crossing the channel, by almost a
miracle they went straight through an opening in the reef, and shot
upon a ledge of coral, where the waters were tolerably smooth. Here
they lay until morning, when the natives came off to them in their
canoes. By the help of the islanders, the schooner was hove over on her
beam-ends; when, finding the bottom knocked to pieces, the adventurers
sold the boat for a trifle to the chief of the district, and went
ashore, rolling before them their precious cask of spirits. Its
contents soon evaporated, and they came to Partoowye.
The day after encountering these fellows, we were strolling among the
groves in the neighbourhood, when we came across several parties of
natives armed with clumsy muskets, rusty cutlasses, and outlandish
clubs. They were beating the bushes, shouting aloud, and apparently
trying to scare somebody. They were in pursuit of the strangers, who,
having in a single night set at nought all the laws of the place, had
thought best to decamp.
In the daytime, Po-Po’s house was as pleasant a lounge as one could
wish. So, after strolling about, and seeing all there was to be seen,
we spent the greater part of our mornings there; breakfasting late, and
dining about two hours after noon. Sometimes we lounged on the floor of
ferns, smoking, and telling stories; of which the doctor had as many as
a half-pay captain in the army. Sometimes we chatted, as well as we
could, with the natives; and, one day—joy to us!—Po-Po brought in three
volumes of Smollett’s novels, which had been found in the chest of a
sailor, who some time previous had died on the island.
Amelia!—Peregrine!—you hero of rogues, Count Fathom!—what a debt do we
owe you!
I know not whether it was the reading of these romances, or the want of
some sentimental pastime, which led the doctor, about this period, to
lay siege to the heart of the little Loo.
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