trinkets, which, during our former voyages, had so great a run at this
island, were now so much despised, that few would deign so much as to
look at them.

There being but little wind all the morning, it was nine o'clock
before we could get to an anchor in the bay, where we moored with the
two bowers. Soon after we had anchored, Omai's sister came on board
to see him. I was happy to observe, that, much to the honour of them
both, their meeting was marked with expressions of the tenderest
affection, easier to be conceived than to be described.

This moving scene having closed, and the ship being properly moored,
Omai and I went ashore. My first object was to pay a visit to a man
whom my friend represented as a very extraordinary personage indeed,
for he said that he was the god of Bolabola. We found him seated under
one of those small awnings which they usually carry in their larger
canoes. He was an elderly man, and had lost the use of his limbs,
so that he was carried from place to place upon a hand-barrow.
Some called him _Olla_, or _Orra_, which is the name of the god of
Bolabola, but his own proper name was Etary. From Omai's account of
this person, I expected to have seen some religious adoration paid to
him. But, excepting some young plantain trees that lay before him, and
upon the awning under which he sat, I could observe nothing by which
he might be distinguished from their other chiefs. Omai presented to
him a tuft of red feathers, tied to the end of a small stick; but,
after a little conversation on indifferent matters with this Bolabola
man, his attention was drawn to an old woman, the sister of his
mother. She was already at his feet, and had bedewed them plentifully
with tears of joy.