in the spirit room,
over which we mounted two men as guard. It was idle to try and lock the
door, for the lock had been shattered, possibly when we ran aground, and
would not hold. But we locked the door of the room where our weapons and
ammunition were, and placed another guard there.

I think many of the sailors were mightily annoyed at this action of
ours, and gladly would have resented it. But there was nothing they
could do just then, and though Cornelys Jensen was more savage than any
of them, he wore a smooth face, and kept them in check by his authority.
Though we did not dream of it then, it was a mighty blessing for us,
that same shipwreck, for if it had not come about just when it did worse
would have happened. As matters now stood, our little party--for it was
becoming pretty plain that there were two parties in the ship--was
well-armed, while the sailors had no other weapons than their knives.

CHAPTER XIX

HOW SOME OF US GOT TO THE ISLAND

But between our need for watchfulness and the drunkenness of many of the
crew the time slipped away without our doing as much as we should have
done under happier conditions. Thanks to the confusion that their
wantonness had caused, we did but make three trips in all to the island
in that day, in which three trips we managed to send over about fifty
persons, with some twenty barrels of bread and a few casks of water. Had
we been wiser we should have sent more water, for we could not tell how
distressed we might become for want of it on the shore if we did not
find any spring of fair water on the island. However, I am recording
what we did, and not what we ought to have done, and I can assure my
friends that if ever they find themselves in such straits as we were in
that night and day they will have reason to be thankful if they manage
to keep all their wits about them, and to conduct their affairs with
the same wisdom that they, as I make no doubt, display in less pressing
hours. For myself, my wits were still wool-gathering, still were
striving to remember something which for the life of me I could not
manage to remember.

It was well-nigh evening, and twilight was making the distant land
indistinct, when Hatchett came back from the last of those three voyages
with very unpleasant tidings--that it was no use for us to send over any
more provisions to the island, as those who had been disembarked there
were only wasting that which they had already received.