I was within a few days of reaching my twenty-third birthday when it was my fortune to secure a berth as only mate aboard a very smart and handsome little brig of two hundred and sixty-five tons, named the Lancashire Witch, hailing out of Liverpool, and bound from that port to Kingston, Jamaica, with a cargo of sugar-mill machinery and Manchester goods.

We sailed on the twenty-eighth of January 18—, with a piping north-easter blowing over our taffrail that swept us right away from the Bar Lightship into the north-east trades without obliging us to start tack or sheet, brace or halliard, from the moment when our "old man" took his departure from the Saltees light. The trade-winds were blowing fresh too, so that we made a phenomenally quick but otherwise uneventful run across the Atlantic until we arrived within some three hundred miles of the Turks Islands, where the wind suddenly failed us, and we fell in with light, hazy, rainy weather, with occasional short spells of flat calm, and variable shifting airs that obliged us to take in all our studding-sails and jockey the little hooker along as best we could under all plain sail. It was tedious, irritating work, for there was so much box-hauling of the yards that the watch could find time for nothing but tending the braces, and all hands of us, fore and aft, were driven nearly frantic.

At length, on the fourth day of this kind of work, the sky gradually thickened up in the southern board, the sun became a pallid, shapeless blotch of watery light in the heavens, and there were other signs that a change of weather was brewing. Yet there was nothing to indicate that the change was imminent; we therefore contented ourselves with the maintenance of a watchful eye upon the signs of the times, and left all our flying kites abroad, in order that we might derive the utmost possible advantage from the languid and scarcely perceptible breathings of the atmosphere that reached us we scarcely knew from where, so light and evanescent were they.

Thus matters went with us throughout the day, the aspect of the sky altering so subtly and gradually, that it was only at the change of the watches, after a four hours' spell below, that one was able to detect any very marked difference. When, however, I was called at eight bells of the afternoon watch I at once noted so pronounced an increase in the threatening aspect of the sky that I felt assured of the near approach of the impending change; and as the skipper did not seem disposed to take the initiative, I suggested that all hands should go to work at once to snug down the ship and prepare her for the coming conflict. Unfortunately, however, the "old man" did not take the same view of the matter that I did; he had been on deck the whole afternoon, and the menacing appearance that had at once impressed me had been occurring so gradually and subtly that he had scarcely noticed it; moreover, there was now a small, hot breeze coming up from the southward that was fanning the nimble little brig along at a speed of nearly four knots, and he was evidently disinclined to forego so great an advantage.

"Yes," he said, when I expressed the opinion that we should have an outburst before long, "it is coming, slowly but surely; but I don't think we shall have it for another hour or two. I don't notice much difference from what it was at noon, except that the sun has vanished, and there is perhaps a little more movement in the muck overhead. I believe we may venture to hang on for another half-hour or so; we shall still have plenty of time to snug down before dark."

I felt rather doubtful of this; but the skipper was a dreadfully opinionated, obstinate man, and I knew that argument, or anything approaching it, would be worse than useless with him. I therefore made no reply, but walked to the skylight, and took a peep at the barometer that hung there. The mercury had fallen more than half an inch since I had last glanced at it just before going to my cabin after dinner.

"Well," inquired the skipper, as I turned away, "what does it say?"

"Twenty-eight, thirty-five," I replied.

"Ay," he remarked, "it is going down steadily; it will be a regular teaser when it comes."

Yet he did not—as I hoped he would—give the order to shorten sail, although the wind was now steadily freshening in puffs, while the sky to windward was darkening and growing ever more threatening of aspect even as one watched it. Meanwhile all hands were on deck, evidently standing by for a call, and casting increasingly anxious glances alternately aft and to windward.

At length one bell struck; and while the sound was still vibrating in the air, the skipper—his obstinate spirit perhaps satisfied now that he had held on for the half-hour he had mentioned—gave the order for all hands to shorten sail.

"Clew up and furl everything except the main-topsail, which you may close-reef, Mr. Burt," he said to me, "and let the hands look smart about it."

"Ay, ay, sir," I answered. Then to the men: "Let go the royal, top-gallant, and fore-topsail sheets and halliards; also your jib, staysail, and main-topsail halliards; man your clew-lines, bunt-lines, and down-hauls, and get the canvas off her as quickly as you can. A couple of hands aloft each to the fore and main royals and roll them up, stowing the top-gallant sails and the main-royal and top-gallant staysails on your way down; and, hark ye, lads, see that you make a snug stow of it, so that nothing blows adrift by-and-by in the darkness, to give us trouble. Now bowse out the reef tackles of your main-topsail; and after you have done that, man your fore and main clew-garnets, and get the courses snugged well up to the yards. Hurrah, bullies, be as lively as you like; let us get the barkie snug while we have light enough to see what we are about!"

The men, who had evidently been impatiently awaiting these orders, sprang about the decks like wild-cats, letting go, clewing up, and hauling down fore and aft with frantic energy, yet working with the method of men who not only knew thoroughly what they were about, but were also perfectly aware of the vital importance of getting through their work in the shortest possible amount of time. In a few minutes, therefore, every sail was off the ship, except the main-topsail, and the hands were on the yards, rolling up the canvas as though for dear life, while the skipper held the wheel, and I dashed hither and thither, letting go this rope and dragging upon that, as called upon by the men aloft. Meanwhile, to facilitate the operation of reefing and furling, the brig was kept broad away, or very nearly dead before the wind.

Suddenly there arose a wild yell aloft of "Man overboard!" and glancing up from what I was about at the moment, I was just in time to catch a glimpse of the body of a man flashing downward—apparently from the larboard mainyard-arm—ere it vanished, with scarce a splash, into the leaden-hued water alongside.

Suddenly there arose a wild yell aloft of "Man overboard!"

Quick as thought the skipper whipped out his knife, and cut adrift a life-buoy that hung over the port quarter, letting it drop into the water within a fathom or two of where a small blot of foam marked the spot of the man's disappearance; while I, forgetful of everything else, sprang to the port-quarter boat, and slashed away with my knife at the gripes that held her. In another moment I was joined by two men from aloft who had come down by way of the backstays; and while the skipper jammed the wheel hard down and brought the brig to the wind, with the canvas that remained unfurled, slatting and thrashing as though it would jerk the sticks out of her, the three of us lowered the boat somehow, and tumbled over the side into her, unhooking the tackles, and getting handsomely away from the ship without a mishap, although it was by this time breezing up fresh, and the brig must have been going through it at a speed of fully six knots.

The two men who were with me threw out their oars and got the boat's head round, while I, grasping the yoke-lines, stood up in the stern-sheets watching for the man. Presently I caught sight of him; but heavens! what a long distance he was away from us, half a mile at least, and dead to windward, with the breeze freshening every moment, and a nasty, short, choppy sea getting up that seemed to stop the boat dead every time that a wave struck her.

"Pull, men!" I exclaimed anxiously; "bend your backs to it and put her along, or we shall lose the poor fellow after all. By the way, who is he?"

"Sam Pilcher, sir," answered the fellow who was pulling stroke. "He was at the yard-arm, and we was rollin' up the mainsail. The sail was thrashin' about a goodish bit, and it must ha' jerked him off."

"Perhaps so," I agreed. But I did not pursue the conversation, for I was getting terribly anxious; I had lost sight of the man of whom we were in search, and feared that he had gone down; the sky was momentarily growing blacker and assuming a more threatening appearance to windward; the wind and the sea were rising like magic; and the brig was driving away to leeward like smoke from a galley funnel. The men, too, were glancing anxiously over their shoulders and dragging away at the heavy oars like demons; it was evident that they fully shared the uneasiness that had taken possession of me, and were longing to complete their task and get the boat's nose round pointing toward the brig.

"See anything of him, sir?" at length demanded the man who had previously spoken.

"Not just at this moment," answered I, "but I expect we shall find him hanging on to the life-buoy. Ay, there is the buoy," I continued, as the small white circle swung up on the breast of a sea, "and—yes—yes—there is the man clinging to it. Give way, bullies; another five minutes and we shall have him!"

The two men toiled at their oars with superhuman energy, their laboured breathing and the sweat that literally poured off them bearing eloquent witness to their exertions, while the boat "squashed" viciously into every sea that met her, flinging the spray right aft and drenching us to the skin; yet despite it all we seemed to make little or no headway, and when a full five minutes had sped we were still quite fifty fathoms away from the man. Then I suddenly lost sight of the poor fellow. He was clinging to the buoy when it sank behind the crest of an on-coming sea; but when the buoy swept into view again on the next slope it was empty.

At this trying moment the sky suddenly darkened into a deeper and more menacing gloom, and the next moment I saw a dense rain-squall sweeping along toward us. The men noticed it too, and one of them anxiously inquired—

"How fur is he off now, Mr. Burt? Is there any chance of our gettin' hold of him afore that squall strikes us?"

"If we don't I doubt it's all up with un, for I can't keep on at this here game much longer," muttered the other.

"Try another spurt, lads!" I exclaimed; "another dozen strokes will do it!"

My little crew responded gallantly to my adjuration; but in another moment the squall was upon us, the rain descending like a cataract, and in an instant everything beyond the length of the boat was hidden by the dense curtain of falling water.

The rain lasted for nearly ten minutes, beating the sea down until its surface was like oil, and the men availed themselves of the opportunity to get a little more way upon the boat; but presently I bade them cease pulling, feeling convinced that we must be quite close to the buoy, although I could see nothing of it. Then the rain suddenly ceased, and the wind with it, revealing the buoy right under the boat's bows; but, alas, the man was gone! We recovered the buoy, and then all stood up to see if we could discover our missing shipmate, and presently we saw his cap floating some ten fathoms away; but the owner had vanished. We shouted several times, thinking that possibly the poor fellow might have been washed off the buoy, yet be still afloat somewhere not far distant, although undistinguishable in the rapidly deepening gloom; but no answer came. Then I suddenly bethought me that night and storm were together closing down upon us, and I turned to look for the brig. There she was, just distinguishable in the thickness to leeward, with far too much of her canvas still blowing loose from her yards and stays, and I turned suddenly sick with anxiety for our own fate as I noticed that she was nearly three miles away.

Meanwhile the two men who constituted my boat's crew had risen to their feet and were, like myself, peering anxiously hither and thither in the hope of discovering the missing man. Failing to find him, however, we again shouted, and then paused, fruitlessly listening for a reply.

It was while we were thus breathlessly listening that a faint, low, moaning wail gradually made itself audible, strengthening and deepening in tone even as we listened, until within the space of a few seconds the sound had resolved itself into the unmistakable piping of rapidly rising wind. Instinctively our glances went, with one accord, into the fast-deepening blackness that loured in the southern quarter, and as we looked I saw a long line of pallid white stretching along the horizon and sweeping toward us at terrific speed. At the same instant one of the men with me yelled—

"O my God! look to wind'ard, Mr. Burt! See that white squall comin' down upon us, sir! What had we better do? It's no good tryin' to fetch the brig; she's a good three mile away, and the wind'll be on us in another two minutes!"

"No, no," I answered; "we must weather it out as best we can. Lay the two oars together and bend the end of the painter round the pair of them in the middle, then veer them away as a floating anchor to keep her head to wind. It is our only chance."

No sooner said than done; but not a moment too soon; we had barely time to complete even these brief and simple preparations when the gale swept down upon us with a screaming yell that was absolutely terrifying, and in an instant we were enveloped in a gloom that was not night, but that yet resembled it in so far that we could scarcely see each other, while the white water boiled in over both gunwales, and the air was thick with scud-water that lashed our faces and hands so cruelly that we could not face it, but were fain to crouch in the bottom of the boat and allow our arched shoulders to take the full brunt of the pelting. As to attempting to do anything for the preservation of the boat and our own lives, it was out of the question; the wind smote us with such merciless fury that it was positively difficult for us to breathe, and had we been foolish enough to endeavour to use an oar it would have been torn from our grasp in an instant. Fortunately for us no such effort was needed, our impromptu sea-anchor kept the boat's head to the wind, and although the foam and scud-water were gradually filling our little craft, the process was so slow that I was not very seriously alarmed at it, believing that the squall would be over before our danger from that source became imminent.

The first spite of the squall lasted about ten minutes, after which it moderated to the strength of a strong gale, when the sea at once began to rise, and very soon it was breaking over the boat so vindictively that it kept the three of us busy baling all the time, and even then it was with the utmost difficulty that we were able to keep her free. Meanwhile the night had fallen upon us, dark as the inside of a cavern, and as for the brig, we had seen nothing of her since the first outburst of the squall. We were drenched to the skin, and were both hungry and thirsty, with not a drop of fresh water or the smallest fragment of anything eatable in the boat, and no prospect of obtaining either until we should be picked up. Our plight was therefore by no means an enviable one. The two men who constituted my crew presently began to discuss the probability of the brig returning in search of us; but I must say that, for my own part, I had very little hope of any such thing, and still less that, in the event of the skipper undertaking such a search, he would be successful. But I did not think he would make any such attempt; he would probably believe that the boat had been swamped and all hands of us drowned at the outburst of the squall, and being now short-handed, he would consequently deem it his duty to waste no time upon what he would regard as an utterly useless search, but to make the best of his way to his port of destination. The two others thought differently, and were so completely overwhelmed with consternation at the mere suggestion that their view might be a wrong one, that I did not further attempt to rob them of the small fragment of hope to which they so desperately clung. Besides, there was the possibility—just the bare possibility—that the dawn might prove their surmise to be correct.

In about two hours' time from the outburst of the squall the gale broke, and by midnight—as nearly as it was possible for us to guess at the time—the wind had dwindled away to a fresh breeze, while the sea had so far gone down that it no longer broke into the boat, which we were consequently now enabled to bale dry.

With all the skipper's faults he had his good points, and one of them—much more common nowadays than it was at the period of my adventure—was to keep every item of a boat's equipment in her; and the great importance and advantage of this was now very strongly brought home to us. For not only had we with us the full complement of oars, rowlocks, and other ordinary fittings, but there was also the boat's mast and sails—a sprit mainsail and foresail—snugly enwrapped in a painted canvas case and securely lashed to the thwarts. The moment, therefore, that it was safe to do so, we had the means to make sail.

It would probably be about two bells in the morning watch when, having stepped the mast, we bore up under a double-reefed mainsail, and ran away to the northward in search of the brig, which we hoped to find some ten miles to leeward of us. An hour later a brightening of the sky along the eastern horizon heralded the dawn, and shortly afterward the sun rose brilliantly, flushing the sky around him with a thousand delicate, evanescent tints of pink and gold, the presage of a fine day.

We at once inaugurated a keen look-out for the brig, or some other craft—I was in no wise particular, so long as we were picked up; but when we had run an estimated distance of ten miles to leeward the horizon was still bare. Then came the question of what was the next thing to be done—whether we should continue to run to leeward in further search of the brig; whether we should remain where we were, in the hope that she would shortly heave into view in search of us; or whether we should haul up on a westerly course and endeavour to intercept her. The latter was my suggestion, founded upon the opinion I had formed that the skipper had probably given us up as lost; but the idea conveyed was so unwelcome to my companions that eventually we determined to heave to and remain where we were, that the brig might have every chance to find us if the skipper should undertake the search. Accordingly we hauled the foresheet over to windward, lashed the helm hard down, and stripped for a wash-down in sea-water while our clothes were drying in the sun. One of the seamen was for going overboard for a swim, but I dissuaded him; and it was probably fortunate for him that he listened to me, for while we were still engaged upon our ablutions two big sharks made their appearance close alongside the boat, and began to circle round her with a persistency and deliberation that unpleasantly suggested the impression that they had come to stay.

Meanwhile, with the appearance of the sun the wind dropped fast, until by about eight o'clock it had died away to a flat calm, leaving the water oil-smooth everywhere, save where the fins of the persistent sharks cleft the surface into two thin, wedge-like ripples as they lazily cruised to and fro, never widening the space between them and the boat by more than half-a-dozen fathoms.

Eight o'clock! breakfast time! and here were we three unfortunate men, keenly hungry, and our throats parched with a rapidly increasing thirst that threatened to quickly become a torment, without the smallest morsel of bread or the merest sip of water to divide between us, and with no hope of getting any either so long as the calm lasted—unless, indeed, we could find a ship by searching for her. Obviously this was the only thing to be done; so, not without a muttered curse or two at the cruelty of fortune, we rolled up the sails, unstepped the mast, threw out the oars, and headed the boat to the northward, in which direction we thought the brig might possibly be found. And, as we pulled, the two sharks doggedly followed us, swimming side by side, with their snouts about a fathom astern of the aftermost edge of the rudder, which distance they maintained as truly as though they had been in tow.

Noon arrived and passed, finding us still with nothing in sight, ravenously hungry, and with our mouths slimy with a thirst so imperious that the man who was pulling the bow oar suddenly stooped over the side, scooped up a little salt water in his palm, and quickly drank it, exclaiming in answer to my warning cry—

"I was bound to do it, Mr. Burt, even if I has to suffer for it a'terwards. This here thirst is just maddenin'!"

"Ay, Joey, it is that," agreed the other man. "Have your sup o' salt water done yer any good, mate?"

"No, I don't know as it have, Ned; I didn't take enough of it for that," was the reply.

No more was said; but about half-an-hour afterwards "Joey" snatched another sip, despite everything I could say to dissuade him; and a little later his mate followed his example.

"It's no good talkin', Mr. Burt," he replied to my expostulations; "drinkin' salt water may perhaps make a man mad, but I shall pretty soon go mad if I don't drink something, so what's the odds? And where's the brig; what's the 'old man' up to with her? why ain't he lookin' for us? He ain't lookin' for us, that's sartin, or we should have hove the old hooker into view long afore this. Dash me if I don't begin to think as you're right, Mr. Burt, about his havin' give us up for lost, or else where is he? He ain't hereabouts nowheres, and so he must be headin' for his port, leavin' us here to die o' hunger and thirst! It's murder, that's what it is; downright murder, and nothin' else! What right have he to go and suppose that this here boat foundered in the squall and drownded us? And what are we to do now, 'bandoned out here in the Hatlantic with never a bite nor a sup to keep the life in us?"

"There is no doubt in my mind," I answered, "that our best plan will be to head to the south'ard and west'ard for the Caycos Passage, and so give ourselves a chance to be picked up by either an outward or a homeward bound ship, for we shall be running right into the track of both. It is, of course, most unfortunate that it has fallen calm with us, but I do not believe it will last long; and when once a breeze springs up a sail may heave into view at any moment and pick us up."

It was difficult to fully persuade these two untutored men of the uselessness of searching further for the brig; but eventually I won them round to my view, and we at once hauled up on a south-west course—as nearly as we could hit it off by the sun—pulling hard until sunset, in the hope that the brig might be found in this new direction, for we were convinced that she must be at no great distance from us. But at sunset the horizon was still bare, and the disappointment was so bitter that we were unable to resist any longer the exhaustion that had been steadily growing upon us all day, so the oars were laid in, and with one consent the three of us flung ourselves down in the bottom of the boat, with the result that I instantly fell into a deep slumber.

I slept all through the night, but was awakened next morning, just as the day was dawning, by the man Ned, who, I found, was shaking me furiously by the shoulder as he shouted, in terrified accents—

"Mr. Burt, Mr. Burt, wake up, sir! Where's Joey, where's Joey? He ain't in the boat! Lord ha' mussy upon us! have he gone overboard, d'ye think, sir?"

I started to my feet, vaguely comprehending that something was wrong, but scarcely realising what it was. I found that there was a pleasant little breeze blowing from the north-east—that could only have sprung up very recently, from the look of the water, which was merely rippled, without any sea—and that poor Ned, gaunt and cadaverous of feature, with his deeply-sunken eyes glowing with the scorching fever of long-continued thirst, was glaring at me with an expression of terror that was near akin to madness.

"What is the matter, Ned? Why are you glaring at me like that, man? and what is it you are saying about Joey?" I stammered, in the confusion of a sudden and violent awakening out of a profound sleep.

"What am I sayin' about Joey?" reiterated the fellow. "Why, I am sayin', Mr. Burt, that he ain't in the boat, and where is he? what's happened to 'im?"

Then I fully realised, for the first time, that there were but two of us in the boat, and that the man known as Joey had vanished as completely as though he had never been, leaving no sign or indication of what had become of him. One thing was certain, he was not in the boat, and that fact meant that he had gone overboard. Involuntarily I glanced astern, as though expecting to see him swimming near us; but there was no sign of him. There was a horribly significant fact, however, that instantly caught my attention, and that was, that whereas yesterday there had been two sharks following us, there was now but one!

"Ned," said I, "what is the use of asking me what has become of Joey; how do I know? I have been asleep the whole night until now; and when we all stretched out together you know as well as I do that Joey was with us. How long have you been awake?"

"Not five minutes, Mr. Burt, sir," answered Ned. "I just woke up, looked round, saw that Joey wasn't in the boat, and then I called you, sir, right off the reel."

"Well," said I, "there can be no doubt whatever as to poor Joey's fate, although neither of us happened to witness it; he has gone overboard, most probably during a fit of madness induced by drinking salt water. Let his fate be a lesson to you not to indulge that fatal practice, however greatly you may be tempted. And now, since poor Joe is gone, and we can do nothing to help him, let us get the canvas on the boat and make the best of this fine fair wind."

Sail was made upon the boat, and we soon had the satisfaction of finding ourselves sliding along before the wind at a speed of between four and five knots. I took the yoke-lines, believing that I could steer a truer course than Ned, while he maintained a sharp look-out for a sail. Hour after hour dragged wearily by however, and still the ocean remained deserted, save for our own tiny sail; and meanwhile our hunger and thirst grew apace, until there were times when my torment was so exquisitely keen that I felt sorely tempted to follow Joey's example, and end it all.

As for Ned, although the springing up of the fair wind seemed to hearten him up a bit at first, I noticed that, as the day wore on without result, despair was taking an ever stronger clutch upon him; and several times he cried out that it was all over with us, and we might as well give up, finishing off with a whole string of bitter curses upon the skipper and his shipmates for deserting him. It was curious to note the intense selfishness that misfortune had so quickly developed in the man; he spoke of the misfortune as his, not ours; and he execrated the captain and crew for deserting him, not us.

And so the day dragged wearily on, and night—cool, placid, and brilliant with the countless millions of stars that jewelled the sky—fell upon us, finding us still alone and unrescued. Ned, with the new-born selfishness bred in him by his sufferings, coiled himself away in the bows of the boat and fell asleep—or seemed to do so—as soon as it fell dark, without excuse, apology, or offer to relieve me at the yoke-lines, although I had been steering all day. He remained thus for about an hour and a half, betraying great restlessness, and then, rising to his feet, half stumbled, half crawled aft into the stern-sheets.

"I can't sleep, so I might as well give up trying," he muttered. "You give me the lines, and lie down yourself, Mr. Burt; maybe you'll be luckier than me, and get a bit of a nap."

"Thanks, Ned, I will," answered I; and without further ado I stretched myself at his feet in the bottom of the boat, and straightway fell asleep.

I do not think I could have slept, however, more than ten minutes when I suddenly found myself broad awake again, with every nerve a-tingle and every muscle braced, as though I had suddenly and without warning been brought face to face with some awful, deadly peril. I opened my eyes, and the first object that met my sight was the star-glint upon the long blade of a sheath-knife which my companion was poising above my breast. Another second, and the blade flashed downward, my hand instinctively dashing upward to meet and ward off the blow, and the next instant Ned and I were fighting together for life, my antagonist being uppermost, while my right hand gripped his right wrist so powerfully that presently he dropped his knife with a cry, and flinging himself upon me, strove to seize my throat with his disengaged hand. In the struggle that ensued I somehow managed to scramble to my feet, despite the efforts of my antagonist to keep me down, and my next endeavour was to force Ned forward into the eyes of the boat, so that I might securely lash him with the painter until the frenzy that seemed to have suddenly seized him should have passed off. Then—God knows how it happened, I swear it was not intentional on my part—all in a moment Ned seemed to stumble or throw himself backwards over the gunwale of the boat, and before I could do anything to save him he was gone. Instantly there was a savage rush and a furious swirl in the water alongside, the boat was struck a violent blow beneath her water-line, and in the icy starlight I distinctly saw the white gleam of a shark's belly as he turned on his side to seize my unfortunate shipmate. Then came another momentary swirl of water, in the midst of which the monster—without doubt the same shark that had been following us so persistently—disappeared, dragging the unfortunate seaman with him; and there was I, sick and faint with horror, left alone in the wide waste of waters.

"Ned seemed to stumble or throw himself backwards over
the gunwale of the boat."

What happened to me immediately upon the occurrence of this dreadful tragedy I do not know; but when I came to myself I found that I had somehow made my way back into the stern-sheets of the boat, and that I was grasping the yoke-lines and the mainsheet, while—quite unconsciously, and by instinct—I was keeping the little craft dead before the wind.

I have only a very confused impression of how I spent the remainder of that terrible night; I think that horror and privation combined must have made me delirious, for I have a vague recollection of having caught myself alternately crying, laughing, cursing, and singing; with the one fixed idea that the boat must be kept dead before the wind predominating over everything else. I remember also complaining bitterly, aloud, at the inordinate length of the night, and then being dully surprised at the reappearance of the sun.

With the return of daylight, however, I seemed to get better again, in so far as that my senses fully returned to me; but the anguish I endured from hunger and thirst is not to be described in words. And still, look where I would, the horizon remained bare; it really seemed as though I had unaccountably drifted into some spot of ocean unknown to navigation, yet I knew that I was actually in a well-frequented highway.

Suddenly, when the sun was about two hours high, I caught sight of a small floating object almost directly ahead and at no great distance from the boat, and, curiosity prompting me, I shifted my helm for it. At first I could not guess what it was, but when within half-a-dozen fathoms of it I saw that it was a small turtle, asleep. With infinite caution I steered the boat so as to pass it within arm's reach, and as I ranged up alongside I was fortunate enough to seize it by a fin, whereby I was enabled to lift it into the boat. The creature probably weighed about six pounds, but in my exhausted condition it taxed my strength to the utmost to secure it. No sooner was it in the boat, however, than I cut off its head with Ned's knife, and drank the blood, which restored me in a truly marvellous manner; then, with a lavish expenditure of time and trouble, I at length contrived to get the shells apart and to make a sparing meal of the raw flesh. Doubtless it was a sufficiently disgusting repast, but in my famished condition it seemed that I had never in all my life tasted anything half so delicious. Toward evening I devoured the remainder of the flesh, despite the fact that it had already grown perceptibly putrid; and then I must have fallen asleep, and slept soundly throughout the night, for when consciousness returned I was astonished to find that the day was breaking.

My good fortune of the previous day led me now to maintain a bright look-out for turtles as well as ships; but the day proved a blank in regard to both, as did the next day also, by the evening of which I seemed to be in as pitiable a condition as though I had never caught a turtle at all. Then ensued a period of steadily increasing torment, that at length so far robbed me of reason that I lost all count of time, day and night becoming simply alternate eternities of indescribable anguish. Whether I instinctively retained control of the boat, or whether I allowed her to drift along at her own sweet will, I shall never know; but my next recollection is of awaking out of a kind of stupor to see—in a hazy, uncertain, dreamlike manner—a blotch of greyish-green upon the horizon ahead, to which I at first attached no significance, but which as the boat gradually neared it, impressed itself at length upon my semi-paralysed consciousness as land. Yet even when I comprehended thus much I still failed to realise the tremendous importance of my discovery, and I can only attribute it to instinct rather than reason that I took the boat round to the lee side of the island before beaching her. But when, as I rounded the low point and hauled up to the wind, I caught my first whiff of the land and what was growing upon it, my senses seemed to revive, and I looked about me, with a glimmer of returning intelligence, for a suitable spot at which to land.

And, as I looked, the gleam and sparkle of water trickling down the beach caught my eye; and instantly I seemed to go quite mad with joy, springing to my feet and laughing, shouting, singing, crying, dancing, and, in short, behaving like the demented being that I was. I headed the boat straight for that particular spot, and as she grounded I fell headlong overboard and crawled upon hands and knees through the shallow water and up the beach until I reached the tiny rivulet, into which I at once plunged my face.

Oh, the exquisite, indescribable delight and enjoyment of that first drink! I shall never forget it! Since then I have tasted the choicest vintages, and have partaken of beverages cunningly compounded to afford the utmost gratification to the palate, but never have I tasted anything half so inexpressibly delicious as that draught of pure spring water! I fortunately had sense enough to drink very slowly and sparingly, and thus escaped the ill effects that would undoubtedly have otherwise ensued; and my next business was to look for something to eat. This presented itself in the form of a quantity of shell-fish, which I gathered without difficulty along the water's edge, and roasted in a fire kindled with the assistance of my flint and steel.

The absolute ease with which I had thus at once obtained food and water assured me that I need have no apprehension upon that score; and, with my mind thus relieved, I flung myself down upon the hot, dry sand, under the protecting shadow of an overhanging bush, and at once fell into a profound sleep.

It was within about an hour of sunset when I awoke, greatly refreshed, but with a ravenous appetite; and I had just time to procure, prepare, and consume another meal of roast shell-fish, and to take a long, satisfying draught of water, when night fell, and I again flung myself upon the sand, where I had previously rested, to sleep soundly until morning.

My first care when I awoke next morning was to find a spot where I might bathe without fear of sharks; and this was discovered at no great distance, in a large rock pool, deep enough to allow of my swimming in it. Greatly refreshed by my dip, I next set about providing breakfast; and when I had at length satisfied my appetite, I deemed it advisable to effect a thorough exploration of my island kingdom. My territory was of so limited an extent that this exploration was effectually accomplished by noon; the islet being of the kind known in the West Indies as a "Kay," with nothing very remarkable about it, except that in one part it rose to a height of about one hundred feet, and was covered with vegetation right down to high-water mark. These islets are frequently low; and I considered myself fortunate in having come ashore upon one of some height, as I should thus be afforded an exceptional opportunity to survey the ocean and maintain a look-out for passing vessels.

I thought I could not better employ the afternoon than in ascending to the summit of this hill; and accordingly, as soon as I had provided and partaken of another meal, I started out from my "camp" with this intention. The ground was so densely overgrown everywhere that there appeared to be but scant choice as to route; I therefore plunged straight into the bush and began to force my way upward as well as I could, and a very hot and fatiguing task I found it. I made fairly good progress, however, for about half-an-hour; and then suddenly, and without any warning, I found myself sinking downward through a dense carpet of creepers, and before I could do anything to save myself, down I went, a distance of perhaps twenty feet, falling so heavily that I was stunned for several minutes, and when I revived I found that my head was cut and bleeding.

I was in profound darkness; but after sitting quietly for a time to recover my scattered senses I became conscious of a very faint and feeble glimmer of light, following which I eventually came to a mass of broken and fallen rock, through which the light filtered, and by working at this diligently for something like two hours I at length succeeded in removing enough to enable me to creep into the open air once more, when I found myself upon the weather side of the island, at the base of a low, crumbling, rocky cliff. I carefully noted the spot, determining to return on the morrow with torches to explore the cavern thus strangely discovered, and then made the best of my way back to my camp.

On the following morning I carried out my resolution, finding—as my experiences of the previous day had led me to suppose—that the cavern was of considerable extent; but I met with nothing remarkable until I reached its farther extremity—close to the spot where I had fallen through—when I suddenly came upon several skeletons, clad in the ragged remains of what had once been clothing, and girt with leather belts, to which were buckled old-fashioned, rusty hangers, and into which, in most cases, were thrust one or a pair of rusty flintlock pistols. Moreover, several of these grisly relics of humanity grasped long, dagger-shaped knives or pistols in their bony hands; and after surveying their attitude and general grouping for some time, it gradually dawned upon me that I was gazing upon the result of a savage and protracted fight! Indeed, it looked as though a fierce and deadly quarrel had arisen over a gambling transaction of some sort, for a closer scrutiny revealed the fact that the sandy floor was strewn with gold and silver coins, which I subsequently discovered were Spanish.

My first impulse was to beat a precipitate retreat; my second to still further investigate. The second impulse prevailed; and richly was I rewarded, for right at the far extremity of the cavern I came upon a number of massive chests, which, upon breaking them open, I found to contain gold in coin, bars, and cups, vases, candlesticks, crosses, and other products of the goldsmith's art, all the articles being of most beautiful and elaborate workmanship, while many of them were thickly encrusted with gems that, to my inexperienced eye, seemed to be of almost fabulous value! There was no doubt about it, I had literally fallen upon one of those pirate hoards that one so often reads about but so very seldom discovers. Having completed my survey, I filled my pockets with gold coin, and returned to my camp to think matters over, taking care to block and conceal the entrance to the cave behind me.

"I met with nothing remarkable until I reached its
farther extremity."

My discovery had not robbed me of all appetite, and as I returned I industriously gathered shell-fish for my dinner. It was while thus employed that, happening to instinctively glance at the horizon, as I repeatedly did, my gaze met the white upper canvas of a ship just showing above the ocean's edge. For a full quarter of an hour I watched her, at the end of which time it became evident that she would pass my island at a distance of some ten or twelve miles. In an instant my resolution was taken; and forgetting all about dinner, I dashed at full speed for my boat, flung myself into her, and pushed off to intercept the stranger. The course that she was steering favoured me; and at eight bells that afternoon I was standing on the deck of the barque British Queen, telling my story—except that part relating to the treasure, which I kept most religiously to myself. The British Queen happened to be bound to Kingston, and four days later I landed upon the wharf there, having meanwhile ascertained that my island was that known as Samana Kay. The Lancashire Witch had not arrived, nor was she ever afterwards heard of, the inference being that she had foundered in the squall which was the beginning of my adventure.

My first anxiety now was to convert my Spanish coin into British currency; and this, by the exercise of considerable patience and caution, I contrived to accomplish in about a week, without arousing any suspicion, so far as I was aware; the result being that I found myself the possessor of one hundred and twenty pounds sterling, which I have since had reason to believe was rather less than half what I ought to have received. With this sum, however, I had no difficulty in chartering and fitting out a stout little falucha of some forty tons, manned by four negroes—one of whom was her owner—in which, about a fortnight after my arrival in Kingston, I sailed for Samana Kay.

It took us eight days to reach the Kay, under the lee of which the falucha came to an anchor; and I lost no time in making my way to the cavern. I was terribly afraid that—although it had evidently remained undiscovered for so many years—somebody might have found it and carried off the treasure during my absence; but no, everything was still there, just as I had left it; and little by little I conveyed the whole aboard the falucha and stowed it away in the stout cases I had provided, the negro crew taking no notice of me; indeed, when they were informed that I did not require their assistance, they needed no further encouragement to sleep all day. The labour of transferring the whole of the treasure to the falucha kept me busy for a trifle over three weeks; but I did not grudge it, for when at length we weighed for Kingston, with the whole of it in the falucha's hold, I considered that I was not far short of being a millionaire!

That same night—or, rather, during the small hours of the following morning—while I was vainly striving to sleep in the small, hot, cockroach-haunted cabin of the falucha, a terrific hubbub and shouting suddenly arose on deck, and as I leapt out of my bunk to ascertain the cause of the outcry, the little hooker staggered and reeled almost to her beam-ends under a violent blow, accompanied by the sounds of crashing and rending timber, and the loud inrush of a large volume of water. There was no need, now, for investigation; we had been run down; and, feeling that the falucha was rapidly sinking beneath my feet, I made a spring for the companion-ladder, and somehow contrived to claw my way on deck. While I was doing this the shouting on deck suddenly ceased, and as I emerged from the companion-way I was just in time to see the dark bulk of a large ship sliding rapidly away on a taut bowline. I shouted loudly for help, but the craft was already some fifty fathoms to windward, and my shouting evoked no reply. And while I had my hands to my mouth, and was taking breath for another hail, the falucha quietly cocked up her stern and plunged to the bottom, bows foremost, taking all my treasure with her, and dragging me down for a considerable distance after her. At length, however, all but suffocated, I rose to the surface again, and found floating quite close to me the falucha's mast, with the yard and sail attached, and to this I held on until close upon noon next day, when the British ship Duchess of Devonshire, homeward bound, picked me up. Six weeks later I stepped ashore on the wharf of London Dock, with two pounds in my pockets, the joint contribution of the skipper and mates of the Duchess of Devonshire, and with the clothes I stood up in.