Captain."

"Say nothing more about him. Go on, Johnson."

"It was towards January 24th or 25th, that the plan of leaving the
ship was formed. They determined to reach the western coast of
Baffin's Bay; from there, in the launch, they could meet whalers, or,
perhaps, the settlements on the eastern side. Their supplies were
abundant; the sick grew better with the hope of reaching home. So they
made their plans for leaving; they built a sledge for the transport of
their food, fuel, and the launch; the men were to drag it themselves.
This occupied them until February 15th. I kept anxiously awaiting your
return, Captain, and yet I feared having you present; you would have
had no influence over the crew, who would rather have killed you than
have remained on board. They were wild with the hope of escape. I took
all my companions aside and spoke to them, I besought them to stay; I
pointed out all the dangers of such a journey, as well as the
cowardliness of abandoning you. I could get nothing, even from the
best. They chose February 22d for leaving. Shandon was impatient. They
heaped upon the sledge all the food and liquor it could hold; they
took a great deal of wood; the whole larboard side had been cut away
to the water-line. The last day they passed carousing; they ravaged
and stole everything, and it was during this drunkenness that Pen and
two or three others set fire to the ship. I resisted, and struggled
against them; they threw me down and struck me; at last, these
villains, with Shandon at their head, fled to the east, and
disappeared from my sight. I remained alone; what could I do against
this fire which was seizing the whole ship? The water-hole was frozen
over; I hadn't a drop of water. For two days the _Forward_ was wrapped
in flames, and you know the rest."

Having finished this account, a long silence prevailed in this
ice-house; the gloomy tale of the burning of the ship, the loss of
their precious brig, appeared so vividly before the minds of the
castaways; they found themselves before an impossibility, and that was
a return to England. They did not dare to look at one another, for
fear of seeing on each other's faces blank despair. There was nothing
to be heard save the hasty breathing of the American.

At last Hatteras spoke.

"Johnson," said he, "I thank you; you have done all you could to save
my ship. But you could not do anything alone. Again I thank you, and
now don't let us speak again of this