flows through and about the archipelago.

Ships making the islands from the southward are caught by this current
and drawn among the rocks, to their almost certain destruction; while,
owing to the violence with which the current sets to the north, it is
not possible to approach at all from that direction, or at least it has
never been accomplished. Indeed, so powerful are the currents that even
the boats which cross the narrow straits between the main islands and
the islets of the unfortunate, to carry the latter their supplies, are
ferried over by cables, not trusting to oar or sail.

The brother of my love had charge of one of the boats engaged in this
transportation, and, being desirous of visiting the islets, I accepted
an invitation to accompany him on one of his trips. I know nothing of
how the accident happened, but in the fiercest part of the current of
one of the straits we parted from the cable and were swept out to
sea. There was no question of stemming the boiling current, our utmost
endeavors barely sufficing to avoid being dashed to pieces on the rocks.
From the first, there was no hope of our winning back to the land, and
so swiftly did we drift that by noon--the accident having befallen in
the morning--the islands, which are low-lying, had sunk beneath the
southwestern horizon.

Among these mind-readers, distance is not an insuperable obstacle to the
transfer of thought. My companion was in communication with our friends,
and from time to time conveyed to me messages of anguish from my dear
love; for, being well aware of the nature of the currents and the
unapproachableness of the islands, those we had left behind, as well
as we ourselves, knew well we should see each other's faces no more.
For five days we continued to drift to the northwest, in no danger
of starvation, owing to our lading of provisions, but constrained to
unintermitting watch and ward by the roughness of the weather. On the
fifth day my companion died from exposure and exhaustion. He died very
quietly,--indeed, with great appearance of relief. The life of the
mind-readers while yet they are in the body is so largely spiritual that
the idea of an existence wholly so, which seems vague and chill to us,
suggests to them a state only slightly more refined than they already
know on earth.

After that I suppose I must have fallen into an unconscious state, from
which I roused to find myself on an American ship bound for New York,
surroun