spar and wave my
handkerchief, shouting as I did so with all my might. The brig altered
her course, and now came directly down for me. I made out two or three
people in the forechains standing ready to heave me a rope. I prepared
to seize it. The brig was up to me and nearly running me down, but I
caught the first rope hove to me, and grasped it tightly. I could
scarcely have expected to find myself capable of so much exertion.
Friendly hands were stretched out to help me up, but scarcely was I safe
than I sank down almost senseless on deck. I soon, however, recovered,
and being taken below, and dry clothes and food being given me, I
quickly felt as well as usual. "Where am I, and where are you bound
to?" were the first questions I asked, hoping to hear that I was on
board a homeward-bound vessel. "You are on board the American brig
_Fox_ bound out round the Horn to the Sandwich Islands and the west
coast of North America," was the answer. "But I want to go home to
England," I exclaimed. "Well, then, I guess you had better get into
your basket, and wait till another vessel picks you up," replied the
captain, to whom I had addressed myself. "Thank you, I would rather
stay here with dry clothes on my back and something to eat," I said.
"Perhaps, however, captain, you will speak any homeward-bound vessel we
meet, and get her to take me?"

"Not likely to fall in with one," he observed. "You had better make the
best of things where you are."

"That's what I always try to do," I replied. "You are the right sort of
youngster for me, then," he said. "Only don't go boasting of your proud
little venomous island among my people. We are true Americans, fore and
aft, except some of the passengers, and they would be better off if they
would sink their notions and pay more respect to the stars and stripes.
However, you will have nothing to do with them, for you will do your
duty for'ard I guess." I thought it wiser to make no reply to these
remarks, and as the crew were just going to dinner, I gladly accompanied
them into their berth under the topgallant forecastle. The crew, I
found, though American citizens, were of all nationalities--Danes, and
Swedes, and Frenchmen, with too or three mulattoes and a black cook.
They described Captain Pyke, for that was the master's name, as a
regular Tartar, and seemed to have no great love for him, though they
held him in especial awe. I was thankful at being so soon picked up