and stand out to sea. Although the other tack might bring us
almost in front of the harbour's mouth, it was the safest course to
avoid being cast on shore.

The night came on very dark, but the wind was moderate, and there was
not much sea. Still the weather was excessively cold, and my companions
suffered greatly from their wounds. Tom had been placed in the
stern-sheets near me. Though he said less, he suffered more than the
rest, and I could every now and then hear low groans escaping from his
bosom. At last I heard him calling me. "Jack," he whispered, "what I
told you is coming true. I am going. I feel death creeping over me.
Remember the case. Do all you know I ought to have done. I have been a
great sinner; but you once said there is a way by which all sins can be
blotted out. I believe in that way. Jack, give me your hand. It's
darker than ever; and I am cold, very cold." He pressed my hand, and I
heard him murmuring to himself. It might have been a prayer, but his
words were indistinct; I could not understand what he said. I kept
steering with one hand, looking up at the sails, and casting a glance
now and then at him, while the other two men pulled away to keep the
boat to windward. Presently I felt his fingers relax; an icy chill came
from his hand. I knew too well that my friend was dead. It was some
time before I could bring myself to tell the boatswain what had
happened. "Poor fellow! But it may be the lot of all of us before
another day is over," he said; "yet, as men, we will struggle to the
last."

The night passed on, and we still persevered in endeavouring to obtain
an offing, though so indistinct was the land that we could not tell
whereabouts we were. What was our dismay, when morning broke, to find
that we were directly off the mouth of the harbour, and at such a
distance that the keen eyes of the savages on the hills around might
easily perceive our sail. We at once put the boat about, hoping to get
again to the south'ard before we were discovered. "It's too late,"
cried Green; "I see the canoes coming."

"We must fight them, then," said the daring boatswain, calmly. "We
don't just expect mercy at their hands after the treat we gave them,"
and he laughed at the fearful act he had committed. Still I thought
what could we three, in a small boat, with our dozen muskets, do against
a whole fleet of fierce savages.

We could now see the canoes coming out of the harbour. T