Marion was a tried seaman, a man of wealth and education, and of an adventurous spirit.

It is to Crozet, one of his officers, that we owe the story of his fate.

Thanks probably to the Abbe Rochon, who edited Crozet's papers, the narrative is clear, pithy, and business-like: an agreeable contrast to the Hawkesworth-Cook-Banks motley, so much more familiar to most of us.
For nearly five weeks after Marion's ships anchored in the bay all went merry as a marriage bell, though the relations of the French tars with the Maori _wahine_ were not in the strict sense matrimonial.

The Maoris, at first cautious, soon became the best of friends with the sailors, conveying shooting parties about the country, supplying the ships with fish, and showing themselves expert traders, keenly appreciative of the value of the smallest scrap of iron, to say nothing of tools.

Through all their friendly intercourse, however, it was ominous that they breathed no word of Cook or De Surville.
Moreover, a day came on which one of them stole Marion's sword.