the pinnace, I would have swum
from isle to isle till I had found them." My boys all endeavoured to
encourage and console me. Fritz placed himself at the rudder, observing
that the pinnace was new and well built, and likely to resist a tempest.
Ernest stood on the deck silently watching the stars, only breaking his
silence by telling me he should be able by them to supply the want of
the compass, and point out how we should direct our course. Jack climbed
dexterously up the mast to let me see his skill; we called him the
cabin-boy, Fritz was the pilot, Ernest the astronomer, and I was the
captain and commander of the expedition. Daybreak showed us we had
passed far from our island, which now only appeared a dark speck. I, as
well as Fritz and Jack, was of opinion that it would be advisable to go
round it, and try our fortune on the opposite coast; but Ernest, who
had not forgotten his telescope, was certain he saw land in a direction
he pointed out to us. We took the glass, and were soon convinced he was
right. As day advanced, we saw the land plainly, and did not hesitate to
sail towards it.

As this appeared the land nearest to our island, we supposed the savages
might have conveyed their captives there. But more trials awaited us
before we arrived there. It being necessary to shift the sail, in order
to reach the coast in view, my poor cabin-boy, Jack, ran up the mast,
holding by the ropes; but before he reached the sail, the rope which he
held broke suddenly; he was precipitated into the sea, and disappeared
in a moment; but he soon rose to the surface, trying to swim, and
mingling his cries with ours. Fritz, who was the first to see the
accident, was in the water almost as soon as Jack, and seizing him by
the hair, swam with the other hand, calling on him to try and keep
afloat, and hold by him. When I saw my two sons thus struggling with the
waves, that were very strong from a land wind, I should, in my despair,
have leaped in after them; but Ernest held me, and implored me to remain
to assist in getting them into the pinnace. He had thrown ropes to them,
and a bench which he had torn up with the strength of despair. Fritz had
contrived to catch one of the ropes and fasten it round Jack, who still
swam, but feebly, as if nearly exhausted. Fritz had been considered an
excellent swimmer in Switzerland; he preserved all his presence of mind,
calling to us to draw the rope gently, while he supported the poor boy,
and