Nor were these feelings unreciprocated.

Unless duty called, he seldom went among the crew.
Hard stories too were told about him; something, in particular, concerning an hereditary propensity to kill men and eat them.

True, he came from a race of cannibals; but that was all that was known to a certainty.
Whatever unpleasant ideas were connected with the Mowree, his personal appearance no way lessened them.

Unlike most of his countrymen, he was, if anything, below the ordinary height; but then, he was all compact, and under his swart, tattooed skin, the muscles worked like steel rods.

Hair, crisp and coal-black, curled over shaggy brows, and ambushed small, intense eyes, always on the glare.
In short, he was none of your effeminate barbarians.
Previous to this, he had been two or three voyages in Sydney whalemen; always, however, as in the present instance, shipping at the Bay of Islands, and receiving his discharge there on the homeward-bound passage.