After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were despatched
to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate islander. They
returned at night without success, though they had used the utmost
diligence. On the following day the search was resumed, and the poor
fellow was at length discovered lying beneath a group of rocks, his
legs swollen, his feet torn and bloody from walking through bushes and
briars, and himself half-dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes and
this islander were the only survivors of the crew of the jolly-boat, and
no trace was ever discovered of Fox and his party. Thus eight men were
lost on the first approach to the coast; a commencement that cast a
gloom over the spirits of the whole party, and was regarded by some of
the superstitious as an omen that boded no good to the enterprise.
Towards night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore, to bury the body of
their unfortunate countryman who had perished in the boat. On arriving
at the place where it had been left, they dug a grave in the sand, in
which they deposited the corpse, with a biscuit under one of the arms,
some lard under the chin, and a small quantity of tobacco, as provisions
for its journey in the land of spirits. Having covered the body with
sand and flints, they kneeled along the grave in a double row, with
their faces turned to the east, while one who officiated as a priest
sprinkled them with water from a hat.
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