Wilkins's concern about clothing for Pedro, his eldest son— His discourse with his wife about the ship—Her flight to it—His melancholy reflections till her return—An account of what she had done, and of what she brought—She clothes her children, and takes a second flight

A s my boy Pedro grew up, though, as I said before, he had the graundee, yet it was of less dimensions than it ought to have been to be useful to him, so that it was visible he could never fly; for it would scarce meet before, whereas it ought to have reached from side to side both ways. This pleased my wife to the heart; for now she was sure, whatever I had done before, I could not suspect her. Be that as it will, the boy's graundee not being a sufficient vestment for him, it became necessary he should be clothed.

I turned over my hoard, but could find nothing that would do; or, at least, that we knew how to fit him with. I had described my own country vest for lads to Youwarkee, and she formed a tolerable idea of it, but we had no tackle to alter anything with. "Oh, my dear," says I, "had I but been born with the graundee, I need not be now racking my brains to get my child clothes."—"What do you mean by that?" says she.—"Why," says I, "I would have flown to my ship (for I had long before related to her all my sea adventures, till the vessel's coming to the magnetical rock), and have brought some such things from thence, as you, not wanting them in this country, can have no notion of." She seemed mighty inquisitive to understand how a ship was made, what it was most like to, how a person who never saw one might know it only by the description, and how one might get into it; with abundance of the like questions. She then inquired what sort of things those needles and several other utensils were, which I had at times been speaking of; and in what part of a ship they usually kept such articles. And I, to gratify her curiosity, as I perceived she took a pleasure in hearing me, answered all her questions to a scruple; not then conceiving the secret purpose of all this inquisitiveness.

About two days after this, having been out two or three hours in the morning, to cut wood, at coming home I found Pedro crying, ready to break his heart, and his little brother Tommy hanging to him and crawling about the floor after him: the youngest pretty baby was fast asleep upon one of the beast-fish skins, in a corner of the room. I asked Pedro for his mother; but the poor infant had nothing farther to say to the matter, than "Mammy run away, I cry! mammy run away, I cry!" I wondered where she was gone, never before missing her from our habitation. However, I waited patiently till bed-time, but no wife. I grew very uneasy then; yet, as my children were tired and sleepy, I thought I had best go to bed with them, and make quiet; so, giving all three their suppers, we lay down together. They slept; but my mind was too full to permit the closure of my eyes. A thousand different chimeras swam in my imagination relating to my wife. One while I fancied her carried away by her kinsfolks; then, that she was gone of her own accord to make peace with her father. But that thought would not fix, being put aside by her constant tenderness to her children and regard to me, whom I was sure she would not have left without notice. "But alas!" says I, "she may even now be near me, but taken so ill she cannot get home, or she may have died suddenly in the wood." I lay tumbling and tossing in great anxiety, not able to find out any excusable occasion she could have of so long absence. And then, thinks I, if she should either be dead, or have quite left me, which will be of equally bad consequence to me, what can I do with three poor helpless infants? If they were a little more grown up, they might be helpful to me and to each other; but at their age how shall I ever rear them without the tenderness of a mother? And to see them pine away before my face, and not know how to help them, will distract me.

Finding I could neither sleep nor lie still, I rose, intending to search all the woods about, and call to her, that if any accident had prevented sight of her she might at least hear me. But upon opening the door, and just stepping out, how agreeably was I surprised to meet her coming in, with something on her arm. "My dear Youwarkee," says I, "where have you been? What has befallen you to keep you out so long? The poor children have been at their wits' end to find you; and I, my dear, have been inconsolable, and was now, almost distracted, coming in search of you." Youwarkee looked very blank, to think what concern she had given me and the children. "My dearest Peter," says she, kissing me, "pray forgive me the only thing I have ever done to offend you, and the last cause you shall ever have, by my good will, to complain of me; but walk within doors, and I will give you a farther account of my absence. Don't you remember what delight I took the other day to hear you talk of your ship?"—"Yes," says I, "you did so; but what of that?"—"Nay, pray," says she, "forgive me, for I have been to see it."—"That's impossible," says I; and truly this was the first time I ever thought she went about to deceive me.—"I do assure you," says she, "I have; and a wonderful thing it is! But if you distrust me, and what I say, I have brought proof of it; step out with me to the verge of the wood, and satisfy yourself."—"But pray," says I, "who presented you with this upon your arm?"—"I vow," says she, "I had forgot this: yes, this will, I believe, confirm to you what I have said."—I turned it over and over; and looking wistfully upon her, says I, "This waistcoat, indeed, is the very fellow to one that lay in the captain's locker in the cabin"—"Say not the very fellow," says she, "but rather say the very same, for I'll assure you it is so; and had you been with me, we might have got so many things for ourselves and the children, we should never have wanted more, though we had lived these hundred years; but as it is, I have left something without the wood for you to bring up." When we had our talk out, she, hearing the children stir, took them up, and was going, as she always did, to get their breakfasts. "Hold," says I, "this journey must have fatigued you too much already; lay yourself to rest, and leave everything else to me."—"My dear," says she, "you seem to think this flight tiresome, but you are mistaken; I am more weary with walking to the lake and back again, than with all the rest. Oh," says she, "if you had but the graundee, flying would rest you, after the greatest labour; for the parts which are moved with exercise on the earth, are all at rest in flight; as, on the contrary, the parts used in flight are when on earthly travel. The whole trouble of flight is in mounting from the plain ground; but when once you are upon the graundee at a proper height, all the rest is play, a mere trifle; you need only think of your way, and incline to it, your graundee directs you as readily as your feet obey you on the ground, without thinking of every step you take; it does not require labour, as your boat does, to keep you a-going."

After we had composed ourselves, we walked to the verge of the wood, to see what cargo my wife had brought from the ship. I was astonished at the bulk of it; and seeing, by the outside, it consisted of clothes, I took it with much ado upon my shoulders and carried it home. But upon opening it, I found far more treasure than I could have imagined; for there was a hammer, a great many spikes and nails, three spoons, about five plates of pewter, four knives and a fork, a small china punchbowl, two chocolate cups, a paper of needles, and several of pins, a parcel of coarse thread, a pair of shoes, and abundance of such other things as she had heard me wish for and describe; besides as much linen and woollen, of one sort or another, as made a good package for all the other things; with a great tin porridge-pot, of about two gallons, tied to the outside; and all these as nicely stowed as if she had been bred a packer.

When I had viewed the bundle, and poised the weight, "How was it possible, my dear You-warkee," said I, "for you to bring all this? You could never carry them in your hands."—"No, no," replied she, "I carried them on my back."—"Is it possible," says I, "for your graundee to bear yourself and all this weight too in the air, and to such a height as the top of these rocks?"—"You will always," replies she, "make the height a part of your difficulty in flying; but you are deceived, for as the first stroke (I have heard you say often) in fighting is half the battle, so it is in flying; get but once fairly on the wind, nothing can hurt you afterwards. My method, let me tell you, was this; I climbed to the highest part of the ship, where I could stand clear, having first put up my burden, which you have there; and then getting that on my back near my shoulders, I took the two cords you see hang loose to it in my two hands, and extending my graundee, leaped off flatwise with my face towards the water; when instantly playing two or three good strokes with my graundee, I was out of danger; now, if I had found the bundle too heavy to make my first strokes with, I should directly have turned on my back, dropped my bundle, and floated in my graundee to the ship again, as you once saw me float on the lake." Says I, "You must have flown a prodigious distance to the lake, for I was several days sailing, I believe three weeks, from my ship, before I reached the gulf; and after that could be little less than five weeks (as I accounted for it), and at a great rate of sailing too under the rock, before I reached the lake; so that the ship must be a monstrous way off." "No, no," says she, "your ship lies but over yon cliff, that rises as it were with two points; and as to the rock itself, it is not broader than our lake is long; but what made you so tedious in your passage was many of the windings and turnings in the cavern returning in to themselves again; so that you might have gone round and round till this time, if the tide had not luckily struck you into the direct passage: this," says she, "I have heard from some of my countrymen, who have flown up it, but could never get quite through."

"I wish with all my heart," says I, "fortune had brought me first to light in this country; or (but for your sake I could almost say) had never brought me into it at all; for to be a creature of the least significancy, of the whole race but one, is a melancholy circumstance."—"Fear not," says she, "my love, for you have a wife will hazard all for you, though you are restrained; and as my inclinations and affections are so much yours, that I need but know your desires to execute them as far as my power extends, surely you, who can act by another, may be content to forego the trouble of your own performance. I perceive, indeed," continued she, "you want mightily to go to your ship, and are more uneasy now you know it is safe than you was before; but that being past my skill to assist you in, if you will command your deputy to go backwards and forwards in your stead, I am ready to obey you."

Thus ended our conversation about the ship for that time. But it left not my mind so soon; for a stronger hankering after it pursued me now than ever since my wife's flight, but to no purpose.

We sat us down and sorted out our cargo, piece by piece; and having found several things proper for the children, my wife longed to enter upon some piece of work towards clothing Pedro in the manner she had heard me talk of, and laid hard at me to show her the use of the needles, thread, and other things she had brought. Indeed I must say she proved very tractable; and from the little instruction I was able to give her, soon out-wrought my knowledge; for I could only show her that the thread went through the needle, and both through the cloth to hold it together; but for anything else I was as ignorant as she. In much less time than I could have imagined, she had clothed my son Pedro, and had made a sort of mantle for the youngest. But now seeing us so smart (for I took upon me sometimes to wear the green waistcoat she had brought under my dirty jacket), she began to be ashamed of herself, as she said, in our fine company; and afterwards (as I shall soon acquaint you) got into our fashion.

Seeing the advantages her flight to the ship, and that so many conveniences arose from it, she was frequently at me to let her go again. I should as much have wished for another return of goods as she, but I could by no means think of parting with my factor; for I knew her eagerness to please me, and that she would stick at nothing to perform it. And, thinks I, should any accident happen to her, by over-loading or otherwise, and I should lose her, all the other commodities of the whole world put together would not compensate her loss. But as she so earnestly desired it, and assured me she would run no hazards, I was prevailed on at length, by her incessant importunities, to let her go; though under certain restrictions which she promised me to comply with. As first, I insisted upon it that she should take a tour quite round the rock, setting out the same way I had last gone with my boat; and, if possible, find out the gulf, which I told her she could not mistake, by reason of the noise the fall of the water made; and desired her to remark the place, so as I might know within-side where it was without. And then I told her she might review and search every hole in the ship as she pleased; and if there were any small things she had a mind to bring from it, she was welcome, provided the bundle she should make up was not above a fourth part either of the bulk or weight of the last. All which she having engaged punctually to observe, she bade me not expect her till I saw her, and she would return as soon as possible. I then went with her to the confines of the wood (for I told her I desired to see her mount), and she, after we had embraced, bidding me to stand behind her, took her flight.