hip. Andrew Thompson was my greatest chum. He was a
true-hearted seaman, every inch of him. He had been all his life at
sea, and had had his eyes open, as the saying is, all the time. He used
to take great delight in describing the countries he had visited, and
the ports and harbours in which he had brought up, as also in giving me
instruction in all branches of seamanship.

My other friend was called Terence O'Connor, an Irishman, as his name
betokens, with all the good qualities generally ascribed to the natives
of that country. He liked me, as being a countryman, in the first
place; and secondly, because I liked him. He was still young, and had
nothing of the Mentor about him, like Thompson. He was brave, and true
as steel. I should not say that he was a first-rate seaman; but he was
active and energetic, and he knew how to obey--indeed, he was a capital
hand to have as a mate.

There was also an English lad I liked much, Tom Stokes by name. He was
not very bright, and he used to be sadly bullied by the crew; but as I
was strong, could and did protect him, and his gratitude won my regard.
He had been tolerably well educated; and being fond of reading, with a
retentive memory, he possessed a good deal of information. Left an
orphan, without a friend in the world, he had come to sea; and quitting
his ship at Charleston, he had entered on board the Pocahuntas. I
mention these three of my shipmates for reasons which will hereafter be
seen. I had several other friends, whom I liked more perhaps than Tom
Stokes, and as much as O'Connor, but I need not describe them.

We had fine weather on first putting to sea, and had thus time to let
everything shake into its place before a gale came on. It was early in
the year, but for some reason or other we were ordered to get northward
as fast as we could. For the first week we had calms, and then the wind
came ahead, so that our progress was very slow. Instead of running
through the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, we were to keep on the eastern coast
of Newfoundland, and to approach the northern shore of Labrador.

"You'll want your Flushing jacket and trousers, not forgetting worsted
socks and gloves, my boy, when you get there," said Thompson, who gave
me this information. "You've never felt anything like the cold, nor
seen anything like the fogs, to be found in those parts."

He told me that few Europeans had settled on the coast of Labrador; but
that some Moravian m