e a hint from Captain Cook," he observed; "for I remember the
narrow escape he and his men had from destruction, when the savages, in
a sudden fit of anger, set fire to the grass surrounding his encampment,
from which his powder and more valuable articles had only just before
been removed. The savages hereabouts may be disposed to be friendly
with us; but it will not do to trust them, as we cannot tell from what
cause they may take offence."

We had hitherto been too busy to eat anything, with the exception of
some biscuit and wine. The fire was now lighted, the tea-kettle put on,
and a pot to boil some of the provisions we had brought with us. Nanny
afforded some milk for tea, and with the herbage she would now obtain
she would, it was hoped, give us an abundant supply.

My father, not trusting to the natives, placed a sentry on the neck of
land, as also two others to watch the shore in case they should pay us a
visit by water during the night. We all then retired to our tents; and
having been up during the previous night and hard at work all day, we
very quickly fell asleep.

How long a time had passed I knew not, when I was awakened by a rattling
peal of thunder, which sounded directly above my head. Starting up and
rushing out of the tent, I found my father and the officers, as well as
most of the men, on foot; the rain was coming down in torrents, and the
wind was blowing furiously, dashing the water against the bank, and
making the tall trees bend before it. My fear at first was that they
would be blown down upon us; but when I recollected the shape of their
leaves and their scanty foliage, I saw that there was not much danger of
that. How thankful I felt that my father had not remained on board the
brig, for she, I could not help fearing, would go to pieces, and all her
cargo be lost.

My father's first object was to secure the boats, which lay in the bay I
have already described, above our encampment. As soon as this was done,
he in a calm voice advised those who had not to keep watch to turn in
again. "We need not fear for our lives," he observed; "and as for the
brig, we can do nothing till daylight. Should the weather then
moderate, and she still hold together, we may get off to her; but if
not, Heaven's will be done. We should be thankful that our lives have
been preserved, and that we have secured so many necessaries."

I was only half awake as it was; so, following my father's advice, I
cre