Perhaps his presence had something to
do with it?
We now had all that we came for, so that we were anxious to be
off. But it was a job to get rid of the visitors still remaining
on board. They stowed themselves away in all manner of corners,
in some cases ludicrously inadequate as hiding-places, and it was
not until we were nearly five miles from the land that the last
of them plunged into the sea and struck out for home. It was
very queer. Ignorant of our destination, of what would be
required of them; leaving a land of ease and plenty for a
certainty of short commons and hard work, without preparation or
farewells, I do not think I ever heard of such a strange thing
before. Had their home been famine or plague-stricken, they
could not have evinced greater eagerness to leave it, or to face
the great unknown.
As we drew farther off the island the wind freshened, until we
had a good, whole-sail breeze blustering behind us, the old ship
making, with her usual generous fuss, a tremendous rate of seven
knots an hour. Our course was shaped for the southward, towards
the Bay of Islands, New Zealand. In that favourite haunt of the
South-seaman we were to wood and water, find letters from home
(those who had one), and prepare for the stormy south.
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