prominent feature in the landscape. The
sun was powerful where its beams could penetrate; but where Mr Seagrave
stood, the cocoa-nuts waved their feathery leaves to the wind, and
offered an impervious shade. A feeling of the extreme beauty of the
scene, subdued by the melancholy created by the sight of the wrecked
vessel, pervaded the mind of Mr Seagrave as he meditated over it.

"Yes," thought he, "if, tired with the world and its anxieties, I had
sought an abode of peace and beauty, it would have been on a spot like
this. How lovely is the scene!--what calm--what content--what a sweet
sadness does it create! How mercifully have we been preserved when all
hope appeared to be gone; and how bountifully have we been provided for,
now that we have been saved,--and yet I have dared to repine, when I
ought to be full of gratitude! May God forgive me! Wife, children, all
safe, nothing to regret but a few worldly goods and a seclusion from the
world for a time--yes, but for how long a time--What! rebellious
still!--for the time that it shall please God in his wisdom to ordain."
Mr Seagrave turned back to his tent. William, Tommy, and old Ready
still remained fast asleep. "Excellent old man!" thought Mr Seagrave.
"What a heart of oak is hid under that rugged bark!--Had it not been for
his devotion where might I and all those dear helpless creatures have
been now?"

The dogs, who had crept into the tent and laid themselves down upon the
mattresses by the side of William and Tommy, now fawned upon Mr
Seagrave. William woke up with their whining, and having received a
caution from his father not to wake Ready, he dressed himself and came
out.

"Had I not better call Juno, father?" said William; "I think I can,
without waking mamma, if she is asleep."

"Then do, if you can, my boy; and I will see what cooking utensils Ready
has brought on shore."

William soon returned to his father, stating that his mother was in a
sound sleep, and that Juno had got up without waking her or the two
children.

"Well, we'll see if we cannot get some breakfast ready for them,
William. Those dry cocoa-nut leaves will make an excellent fire."

"But, father, how are we to light the fire? we have no tinder-box or
matches."

"No; but there are other ways, William, although, in most of them,
tinder is necessary. The savages can produce fire by rubbing a soft
piece of wood against a hard one. But we have gunpowder; and we have
two wa