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On Thursday, June 6th, we raised the island of Dominica, one of the Marquesas group. This island presents a beautiful appearance from the sea. The thick groves of the cocoanut, orange, lime, and bread-fruit-trees, with the native huts occasionally peeping out from under the foliage; the mountains in the background, thickly studded with magnolia groves; a beautiful stream of water tickling down the sides of large mountains, here and there inclosed by the trees, are all plainly visible from the ship, and make us long to ramble among them.

A canoe was seen approaching us, and the main yard was hauled aback, when it was soon alongside. The natives were certainly the most singular-looking beings we had ever beheld. They are about medium size, copper-colored, and wear no clothing except a small piece of tappa—a native cloth pounded out from bark—around their loins. Their faces and bodies were tattooed in such a manner that they look truly frightful. Some have a broad stripe running diagonally across the face; others had half the face tattooed; others one eye, with a black mark abreast of it; some the lower half of the face. Their bodies presented all the variations of the kaleidoscope.

The chief, who is quite a dignitary, was “dressed up” for the great occasion. His dress consisted of an old overcoat that reached nearly to his knees, with a large white button tied by a string about a foot in length to the back part, and an old bell-crown “beaver,” about four sizes too large, completely covering his head and ears. This completed his wardrobe, and a truly comical appearance he presented as he approached the captain, pulled off his beaver, pulled out his papers, and presented them with the air of a man of business. The papers were recommends from captains who had traded with him, but he knew nothing contained in them. One of them, of which we obtained a sight, read in this wise: “Beware of this fellow; he is dishonest and a villain; do not allow him to persuade you to go ashore with him.” A nice “recommend,” truly. And here we will remark that the tribe at this bay are cannibals of the fiercest kind, and it would not be very safe for a boat’s crew to go among them.

As we were in haste to reach the Society Islands, we politely took leave of our visitors and the comical-looking old chief, and braced forward, soon leaving the beautiful island of Dominica far astern.

We, in the course of two or three days, passed several of the Societies, and on Saturday the 22d of June, sighted the island of Roratonga, the one to which we were bound. The island, like all those in the tropics, especially those composing the Marquesan and Society group, presents the most rich and beautiful appearance. The land, as it recedes back from the sea, rises to a considerable height, and is dressed in the brightest green foliage; the sandy beach, washed by the never-ceasing rollers, with the neat white houses quietly reposing beneath the thick shade of the myriads of cocoanut, orange, and banana trees, renders it the most beautiful island we have ever beheld. As we stood viewing it from the ship, while drawing nearer and nearer, we could but imagine it to be some Eden of happiness, where yet the passion of man had not stepped in to mar and spoil its beauty. But even here we found that the “serpent” had entered and filled it with sin.

There are three villages on this island, named New York, New Bedford, and the one at which we stopped, Roratongo. We believe there are about eight hundred inhabitants in this village. From appearances, they are not very cleanly in their persons, and are rather forbidding. Most of them, however, wear European clothing, which they obtain from ships. They endeavor to make themselves very friendly, and, as soon as you land, they throng about you as numerous as runners in Albany on landing from a North River steam-boat, exclaiming, in very good broken English, “How de do, my fliend? You be my fliend? Go my house; me got plenty fruit my house.” Each one does his best to make you understand he is your very particular friend; very disinterestedly, of course, as we found to our cost. We accepted the invitation of one of these, who would have it that he was our very particular friend—in fact, he almost claimed relationship—and accompanied him to his house. On arriving at his “house,” we found it to be a long stone building, whitewashed, consisting of but one apartment, with a curtain or screen in the centre, which probably served as a partition, making two rooms. The inmates consisted of two or three young, dirty, ugly-looking females, one of them cross-eyed, and another that had lost an eye, and an old lady, who kept up a constant cry, begging for tobacco. “Too much sore, my toose; small piece bacca.” We soon found this “sore toose” very prevalent, and “bacca” the universal remedy—the great cure-all. After supplying their “immediate necessities,” we sat down to eat some oranges and bananas offered to us. This island abounds with all kinds of tropical fruit, and we soon struck a bargain for all we wanted; and, on arising to go, found they had stolen all our tobacco and pocket-knives. They are expert thieves and arrant rogues; no dependence can be placed on them.

The English have a missionary station here, established several years since. Some of the natives like the present missionary, and some do not. The chiefs or rulers uphold him, but the “people” say he is “no good;” he makes them “work too much.” One of them informed us—and we afterward found it to be true—that if a Kanaka failed to attend church on Sabbath, he had to pay the missionary one dollar, either in money or fruit; if he smoked on the Sabbath, the same penalty; and several other petty tyrannies are practiced, which has the effect of causing the natives to hate the missionary and the Gospel he teaches, and shows that unprincipled as well as good men are sent out, though not known to be such by those who send them, to spread the Gospel among the heathen. If a native wishes a Bible, he must pay the sum of one dollar for it, and the same if a sailor wants one. Such things as these tend more to cause a feeling of hatred against the missionary and his work than of love.

On this island is the grave of the Rev. John Williams, the pioneer missionary, who was universally beloved and respected by the natives. He was a noble as well as a good man, and was actuated by none but the purest motives. He faithfully labored to enlighten the heathen, and to diffuse the glorious blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ among them, and his labors were greatly blessed. After establishing several missionary stations, he went to the island of Tanna, one of the Hebrides, where the natives were cannibals, and groveling in the darkest superstition. On attempting to land, with a desire to create a friendly feeling with the natives, they rushed for him, and, as he attempted to reach the boat, he was struck by a spear and killed. They hauled the body clear of the beach, and refused to give it up. However, we learn they have since delivered up the remains, which were taken to Roratonga and buried. Thus perished this great and good man, at the hand of those to whom he would have done naught but good.

The staple commodity here is tobacco, which is very scarce, and readily commands a high price. For instance, half a pound of ordinary “plug” will purchase two hundred oranges, and other fruit in the same proportion. The natives, both male and female, are very much addicted to its use—never chewing, but forever smoking.

Quite a number of the natives came on board, wishing to go to sea with us, as they say “too much work ashore.” It appears they are building a church, and they do not wish to work, as they receive no pay. We are glad to be able to say that this missionary station is an exception; that at no other one that we visited during our wanderings were the natives tyrannized over as they were here. We are glad, too, for the honor of our country, that this missionary was not an American.

The government is administered by the queen and missionary, or, we should rather say, the missionary and the queen, as she is merely a nominal sovereign. She is a very dignified lady, weighing about three hundred pounds. Next in rank come the “chiefs,” who are members of the royal family, and, with the sovereigns above mentioned, form the council, or law-making power. Next come the “kikos,” or constables, who see that all laws are properly enforced, and arrest those who are guilty of violating them. As there was a law in force preventing any of the inhabitants leaving the island without the consent of the missionary, those who had come on board, wishing to go to sea with us, were compelled to return to land, which they did with sorrowful hearts. Our captain, however, obtained the necessary consent, and shipped three, whom he chose while ashore.

Wood and water all aboard, ship loaded down with luscious tropical fruit, such as oranges, bananas, pine-apples, cocoanuts, limes, lemons, plantains, etc., on Tuesday, June 25th, we were ready to take our departure from this lovely isle. In the last boat that went ashore this morning, one of the crew, by the name of Bob White, a miserable specimen of a most miserable Frenchman, who had imposed upon the captain, palming himself off as a “first-rate steward,” and who had been shipped in that capacity in America, but kicked forward the second day out from home, managed to steal into the boat unobserved, and, while ashore, deserted. All hands, from captain down, were glad to be well rid of him.

When once more at sea, the crew, on looking into chests and examining their possessions, begin to miss different articles of clothing, etc.: one has had his shoes stolen; another a shirt; another his blanket; another his jacket, etc. All appear to have lost something, and they say, if we had remained there much longer, the natives would have stolen us poor.

“Isle of booty, fare thee well.”

Perhaps, however, we were well recompensed, as, upon examination when the watch was set, we found that we had three more Kanakas than were shipped by the captain. The old ship had stolen them in return for the natives plundering her crew. The captain was much opposed to this proceeding on the part of the ship, but, as the island was now out of sight, and we were fast leaving it with a fair wind, he consented to their going with us.

Our old Kanaka friend, Jo Bob, who had come from America with us for the express purpose of going home and remaining, after being ashore a day or two, came on board, and wished to “go the voyage.” We were very much surprised at this, and at first could not account for it, but presently he “let the cat out of the bag,” saying the “Kanakas had got to work—build meetin’-house,” and, as he was a sailor, he spurned the idea of mixing mortar or carrying the hod. Jo thought the least of the two evils was the old ship; and he might well say that, for he was as lazy as a “Mahone soger,” and had seen easy times on board.

In the evening all hands appeared to be in the best humor possible. The fruit had been freely distributed, and each man had received as much as he wanted for a month. All were busy discussing its qualities, spinning yarns, singing and dancing; while the Kanakas, seven in number, were having their “hula hula,” or dances, accompanied with songs, in high glee. These performances were very interesting to us, as we never before witnessed them. They have what they call their love dance, missionary dance, whaling dance, and war dance. Their gestures, songs, and dances very much resemble those of the North American Indians.