A good deal of my time was spent
in taking care of a little puppy, which I had selected from
thirty-six, that were born within three days of one another, at our
house. He was a fine, promising pup, with four white paws, and all the
rest of his body of a dark brown. I built a little kennel for him, and
kept him fastened there, away from the other dogs, feeding and
disciplining him myself. In a few weeks, I got him in complete
subjection, and he grew finely, was very much attached to me, and bid
fair to be one of the leading dogs on the beach. I called him Bravo,
and the only thing I regretted at the thought of leaving the beach,
was parting with him.
Day after day, we went up the hill, but no ship was to be seen,
and we began to form all sorts of conjectures as to her whereabouts;
and the theme of every evening's conversation at the different houses,
and in our afternoon's paseo upon the beach, was the ship- where she
could be- had she been to San Francisco?- how many hides she would
bring, etc., etc.
Tuesday, August 25th. This morning, the officer in charge of our
house went off beyond the point a fishing, in a small canoe, with
two Kanakas; and we were sitting quietly in our room at the hidehouse,
when, just before noon, we heard a complete yell of "Sail ho!"
breaking out from all parts of the beach, at once,- from the Kanakas'
oven to the Rosa's house.
Pages:
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314