On the next morning, Thursday the 13th of July, the ship was very early crouded with our friends, and surrounded by a multitude of canoes, which were filled with the natives of an inferior class. Between eleven and twelve we weighed anchor, and as soon as the ship was under sail, the Indians on board took their leaves, and wept, with a decent and silent sorrow, in which there was something very striking and tender: the people in the canoes, on the contrary, seemed to vie with each other in the loudness of their lamentations, which we considered rather as affectation than grief. Tupia sustained himself in this scene with a firmness and resolution truly admirable: he wept indeed, but the effort that he made to conceal his tears, concurred, with them, to do him honour. He sent his last present, a shirt, by Otheothea, to Potomai, Tootahah’s favourite mistress, and then went with Mr. Banks to the mast-head, waving to the canoes as long as they continued in sight.

Voyaging Accounts