s of
America, and who sailed from the port of Philadelphia, in 1809, on board
the brig Negociator, bound to the Friendly Islands, was cast upon this
desolate island the February following, where he erected a hut and lived
a number of years, subsisting on seals--he being the last who survived of
the crew of said brig, which ran foul of an island of ice, and foundered
on the 25th Nov. 1809.

There it was, quite clear. By this means I learned a lot about myself.
One vexed point, however, I never did succeed in clearing up. Was this
island situated in the far South Pacific or the far South Atlantic? I do
not know enough of sailing-ship tracks to be certain whether the brig
_Negociator_ would sail for the Friendly Islands via Cape Horn or via the
Cape of Good Hope. To confess my own ignorance, not until after I was
transferred to Folsom did I learn in which ocean were the Friendly
Islands. The Japanese murderer, whom I have mentioned before, had been a
sailmaker on board the Arthur Sewall ships, and he told me that the
probable sailing course would be by way of the Cape of Good Hope. If
this were so, then the dates of sailing from Philadelphia and of being
wrecked would easily determine which ocean. Unfortunately, the sailing
date is merely 1809. The wreck might as likely have occurred in one
ocean as the other.

Only once did I, in my trances, get a hint of the period preceding the
time spent on the island. This begins at the moment of the brig's
collision with the iceberg, and I shall narrate it, if for no other
reason, at least to give an account of my curiously cool and deliberate
conduct. This conduct at this time, as you shall see, was what enabled
me in the end to survive alone of all the ship's company.

I was awakened, in my bunk in the forecastle, by a terrific crash. In
fact, as was true of the other six sleeping men of the watch below,
awaking and leaping from bunk to floor were simultaneous. We knew what
had happened. The others waited for nothing, rushing only partly clad
upon deck. But I knew what to expect, and I did wait. I knew that if we
escaped at all, it would be by the longboat. No man could swim in so
freezing a sea. And no man, thinly clad, could live long in the open
boat. Also, I knew just about how long it would take to launch the boat.

So, by the light of the wildly swinging slush-lamp, to the tumult on deck
and to cries of "She's sinking!" I proceeded to ransack my sea-chest