WHALING VOYAGE. 
353 
tinning so long, we became quite aldermanic in our 
appearance, and even our dogs and cats, which fed upon 
the waste morsels, soon became remarkably corpulent, 
seeming also to get quite idle, and excessively stupid, 
verifying the words of our great poet, who states that 
“fat paunches make lean pates, and dainty bits serve to 
banter out the wits/’ Having touched at North Island, 
we visited the grave of Captain Younger, who was 
killed by the falling of a tree while on this island, which 
misfortune was quickly followed by the total wreck of 
his ship, on the rocks not far distant from the spot at 
which, only a few days before, he had been interred. 
While there, three of us entered into the spirit of a 
wild-pig hunt, which was amusing and romantic enough 
in these desolate regions: many daring and curious feats 
were performed on that day, the particulars of which 
would fill a chapter, but I can only state that we cap- 
tured three fine boars. We now began cruising about 
these islands for whales, but met with very trifling suc- 
cess, and finding that it was not likely to be improved 
on account of having lost our two best whalers, and also 
finding that the captain still continued his ill-treatment 
of the crew, which had been the principal cause of our 
misfortunes, I could not help turning from the scene 
with disgust, and a strong desire to return home sprang 
suddenly up in my mind, which I could not control, 
and which I certainly had no inducement to repress, for 
the captain had by this time estranged from him every 
soul in the ship, by his cruel and tyrannical conduct. 
This being the first and last voyage I had ever under- 
