told the men in the boats not to let them come too near. This, though we
did not mean it, brought us to a fight with them, and they shot a cloud
of darts at our boats. We did not fire at them, yet in half an hour they
went back out to sea, and then came straight to us, till we were so near
that they could hear us speak.

I bade my men keep close, so as to be safe from their darts if they
should shoot, and get out the guns. I then sent Friday on deck, to call
out to them in their own tongue and ask what they meant. It may be that
they did not know what he said, but as soon as he spoke to them I heard
him cry out that they would shoot. This was too true, for they let fly
a thick cloud of darts, and to my great grief poor Friday fell dead, for
there was no one else in their sight. He was shot with three darts, and
three more fell quite near him, so good was their aim.

I was so mad with rage at the loss of my dear Friday, that I bade the
men load five guns with small shot, and four with large, and we gave
them such a fierce fire that in all their lives they could not have seen
one like it. Then a rare scene met our eyes: dread and fear came on them
all, for their boats, which were small, were split and sunk--three or
four by one shot. The men who were not dead had to swim, and those who
had wounds were left to sink, for all the rest got off as fast as they
could. Our boat took up one poor man who had to swim for his life, when
the rest had fled for the space of half an hour. In three hours' time,
we could not see more than three or four of their boats, and as a breeze
sprang up we set sail.

At first the man whom we took on board would not eat or speak, and we
all had fears lest he should pine to death. But when we had taught him
to say a few words, he told us that his friends--the wild men-had come
out with their kin to have a great fight, and that all they meant was
to make us look at the grand sight. So it was for this that poor Friday
fell! He who had been as good and true to me as man could be! And now in
deep grief I must take my leave of him.

We went on with a fair wind to All Saints' Bay, and here I found a sloop
that I had brought with me from home, that I might send men and stores
for the use of my friends in the isle. I taught the mate how to find the
place, and when he came back, I found that he had done so with ease.

One of our crew had a great wish to go with the sloop, and live on the
isle, if the chie