of these, near the stern, Ailie was
placed, and was comparatively sheltered and comfortable. Besides
forming a shelter for the men while they slept, these tarpaulins threw
off the waves that frequently broke over the boat, and more than once
bid fair to sink her altogether. These arose in enormous billows, and
the gale was so violent that only the smallest corner of the foresail
could be raised--even that was almost sufficient to tear away the mast.

At length the gale blew itself out, and gradually decreased to a
moderate breeze, before which the sails were shaken out, and on the
fourth morning after it broke they found themselves sweeping quickly
over the waves on their homeward way, but without a morsel of food, and
thoroughly exhausted in body and in mind.

On that morning, however, they passed a piece of floating seaweed, a
sure indication of their approach to land. Captain Dunning pointed it
out to Ailie and the crew with a cheering remark that they would
probably soon get to the end of their voyage; but he did not feel much
hope; for, without food, they could not exist above a few days more at
the furthest--perhaps not so long. That same evening, several small
sea-birds came towards the boat, and flew inquiringly round it, as if
they wondered what it could be doing there, so far away from the haunts
of men. These birds were evidently unaccustomed to man, for they
exhibited little fear. They came so near to the boat that one of them
was at length caught. It was the negro who succeeded in knocking it on
the head with a boat-hook as it flew past.

Great was the praise bestowed on King Bumble for this meritorious deed,
and loud were the praises bestowed on the bird itself, which was
carefully divided into equal portions (and a small portion for Jacko),
and eaten raw. Not a morsel of it was lost--claws, beak, blood, bones,
and feathers--all were eaten up. In order to prevent dispute or
jealousy, the captain made Ailie turn her back on the bird when thus
divided, and pointing to the different portions, he said--

"Who shall have this?" Whoever was named by Ailie had to be content
with what thus fell to his share.

"Ah, but ye wos always an onlucky dog!" exclaimed Briant, to whom fell
the head and claws.

"Ye've no reason to grumble," replied Gurney; "ye've got all the brains
to yerself, and no one needs them more."

The catching of this bird was the saving of the crew, and it afforded
them a good deal