an human.

A stone is slung and a javelin cast, though both fall short. But will
the next? They will soon be at nearer range, and the gig's people,
absolutely without means of protection, sit in fear and trembling.
Still the rowers, bracing hearts and arms, pull manfully on. But
Captain Gancy is appalled as another stone plashes in the water close to
the boat's side, while a third, striking the mast, drops down among
them.

"Merciful Heaven!" he exclaims, despondingly, as he extends a sheltering
arm over the heads of his dear ones. "Is it thus to end? Are we to be
stoned to death?"

"_Yonder's_ a Heaven's marcy, I do believe!" says Seagriff on the
instant, "comin' to our help 'roun' Burnt Island. Thet'll bring a
change, sure!"

All turn their eyes in the direction indicated, wondering what he means,
and they see the water, lately calm, surging and whirling in violent
agitation, with showers of spray dashing up to the height of a ship's
mast.

"It's a _williwaw_!" adds the old sealer, in joyous tone, though at any
other time, in open boat, or even decked ship, it would have sent a
thrill of fear through his heart. Now he hails it with hope, for he
knows that the williwaw [Note 3] causes a Fuegian the most intense fear,
and oft engulfs his crazy craft, with himself and all his belongings.
And at sight of the one now sweeping toward them the savages instantly
drop sling and spear, cease shouting, and cower down in their canoes in
dread silence.

"Now's our chance, boys!" sings out Seagriff. "Wi' a dozen more strokes
we'll be cl'ar o' them--out o' the track o' the williwaw, too."

The dozen strokes are given with a will. Two dozen ere the squall
reaches them, and when it comes up, it has spent most of its strength,
passing alike harmlessly over boat and canoes. But again the other
danger threatens. The Fuegians are once more upon their feet, shaking
their spears and yelling more furiously than ever; anger now added to
their hostility. Yet louder and more vengefully they shout at finding
pursuit is vain, as they soon do, for the diversion caused by the
williwaw has given the gig an advantage, throwing all the canoes so far
astern that there is no likelihood of its being caught. Even with the
oars alone the gig could easily keep the distance gained on the
slowly-paddled craft. It does better, however, having caught the
breeze, and, with a swollen sail it glides on down Whale-boat Sound,
rapidly increas