WHAT HAPPENED AT HYTYHOO LESS than forty-eight hours after leaving Nukuheva, the blue, looming island of St.

Christina greeted us from afar.

Drawing near the shore, the grim, black spars and waspish hull of a small man-of-war craft crept into view; the masts and yards lined distinctly against the sky.

She was riding to her anchor in the bay, and proved to be a French corvette.
This pleased our captain exceedingly, and, coming on deck, he examined her from the mizzen rigging with his glass.

His original intention was not to let go an anchor; but, counting upon the assistance of the corvette in case of any difficulty, he now changed his mind, and anchored alongside of her.