Intercourse with the savages—Cannibalism prevented—The slain are buried and the survivors depart, leaving us again alone on our Coral Island.  
After the battle was over, the savages crowded round us and gazed at us in surprise, while they continued to pour upon us a flood of questions, which, being wholly unintelligible, of course we could not answer. However, by way of putting an end to it, Jack took the chief (who had recovered from the effects of his wound) by the hand and shook it warmly. No sooner did the blacks see that this was meant to express good-will than they shook hands with us all round. After this ceremony was gone through Jack went up to the girl, who had never once moved from the rock where she had been left, but had continued an eager spectator of all that had passed. He made signs to her to follow him, and then, taking the chief by the hand, was about to conduct him to the bower when his eye fell on the poor infant which had been thrown into the sea and was still lying on the shore. Dropping the chief’s hand he hastened towards it, and, to his great joy, found it to be still alive. We also found that the mother was beginning to recover slowly.
 
“Here, get out o’ the way,” said Jack, pushing us aside as we stooped over the poor woman and endeavoured to restore her; “I’ll soon bring her round.” So saying, he placed the infant on her bosom and laid its warm cheek on hers. The effect was wonderful. The woman opened her eyes, felt the child, looked at it, and with a cry of joy, clasped it in her arms, at the same time endeavouring to rise—for the purpose, apparently, of rushing into the woods.
 
“There, that’s all right,” said Jack, once more taking the chief by the hand.—“Now, Ralph and Peterkin, make the women and these fellows follow me to the bower. We’ll entertain them as hospitably as we can.”
 
In a few minutes the savages were all seated on the ground in front of the bower, making a hearty meal off a cold roast pig, several ducks, and a variety of cold fish, together with an unlimited supply of cocoa-nuts, bread-fruits, yams, taro, and plums—with all of which they seemed to be quite familiar and perfectly satisfied.
 
Meanwhile we three, being thoroughly knocked up with our day’s work, took a good draught of cocoa-nut lemonade, and throwing ourselves on our beds, fell fast asleep. The savages, it seems, followed our example, and in half-an-hour the whole camp was buried in repose.
 
How long we slept I cannot tell; but this I know—that when we lay down the sun was setting, and when we awoke it was high in the heavens. I awoke Jack, who started up in surprise, being unable at first to comprehend our situation. “Now, then,” said he, springing up, “let’s see after breakfast.—Hallo, Peterkin, lazy fellow! how long do you mean to lie there?”
 
Peterkin yawned heavily. “Well,” said he, opening his eyes and looking up after some trouble, “if it isn’t to-morrow morning, and me thinking it was to-day all this time—Hallo, Venus! where did you come from? You seem tolerably at home, anyhow. Bah! might as well speak to the cat as to you—better, in fact, for it understands me, and you don’t.”
 
This remark was called forth by the sight of one of the elderly females, who had seated herself on the rock in front of the bower, and having placed her child at her feet, was busily engaged in devouring the remains of a roast pig.
 
By this time the natives outside were all astir, and breakfast in an advanced state of preparation. During the course of it we made sundry attempts to converse with the natives by signs, but without effect. At last we hit upon a plan of discovering their names. Jack pointed to his breast and said “Jack” very distinctly; then he pointed to Peterkin and to me, repeating our names at the same time. Then he pointed to himself again and said “Jack,” and laying his finger on the breast of the chief, looked inquiringly into his face. The chief instantly understood him, and said “Tararo” twice distinctly. Jack repeated it after him, and the chief, nodding his head approvingly, said “Chuck,” on hearing which Peterkin exploded with laughter. But Jack turned, and with a frown rebuked him, saying, “I must look even more indignantly at you than I feel, Peterkin, you rascal, for these fellows don’t like to be laughed at.” Then turning towards the youngest of the women, who was seated at the door of the bower, he pointed to her; whereupon the chief said “Avatea,” and pointing towards the sun, raised his finger slowly towards the zenith, where it remained steadily for a minute or two.
 
“What can that mean, I wonder?” said Jack, looking puzzled.
 
“Perhaps,” said Peterkin, “the chief means she is an angel come down to stay here for a while. If so, she’s an uncommonly black one!”
 
We did not feel quite satisfied with this explanation, so Jack went up to her and said “Avatea.” The woman smiled sadly and nodded her head, at the same time pointing to her breast and then to the sun in the same manner as the chief had done. We were much puzzled to know what this could signify; but as there was no way of solving our difficulty, we were obliged to rest content.
 
Jack now made signs to the natives to follow him, and taking up his axe, he led them to the place where the battle had been fought. Here we found the prisoners, who had passed the night on the beach, having been totally forg............