They had no arms except one pistol
which the mate possessed.
As they made their way towards shore a canoe drifted out, and lying in
it, wrapped in a native mat, was the body of Bishop Patteson.
A sweet calm smile was on his face, a palm leaf was fastened upon his
breast, and upon the body were five wounds--the exact number of the
natives who had been kidnapped or killed.
So the good bishop died for the misdeeds of others. The natives but
followed their traditions in exacting blood for blood, and their poor
dark minds could not distinguish between the good and the bad white
men.
Two of those who were with the bishop in the boat, and had received
arrow wounds, died within a week, after much suffering.
One of them, Mr. Atkins, writing of the occurrence on the day of the
martyrdom, says:--
"It would be selfish to wish him back. He has gone to his rest, dying,
as he lived, in the Master's service. It seems a shocking way to
die; but I can say from experience it is far more to hear of than to
suffer. There is no sign of fear or pain on his face, just the look
that he used to have when asleep, patient and a little wearied.
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