ey ate their shoes, which were made of
raw sealskin.

On Christmas Day some of them landed, and had the good fortune to kill a
seal. Though the two men who were left in each boat to take care of it
could see their companions on shore eating seal, they were unable to
have any themselves, as again when night came on the wind blew very
hard, and the mighty breakers beat with pulse-like regularity on the
shore.

John Byron, who had fallen into a comfortless sleep in the boat, was
suddenly awakened by a shriek, and saw the yawl turned bottom upwards
and go down.

One man was drowned, the other was thrown up by the breakers on the
beach and saved by the people there.

At this place Mr. Hamilton, who was with the shore party, shot at a
large sea-lion, which he hit with two balls; and when the brute
presently charged at him with open mouth, he thrust his bayonet down its
throat, as well as a great part of the barrel of his gun. But the
sea-lion bit this in two with the greatest ease, and in spite of all its
wounds, and all other efforts to kill it, got away.

As they had lost the yawl there was not enough of room to take all the
men away from this place, therefore four of the marines agreed to remain
and to try to make their way on foot to a more habitable country.

The captain gave them guns and food, and as the boat put off, they stood
upon the beach and gave three cheers, and shouted 'God bless the King.'

The others made another attempt to double the cape, but the wind, the
sea, and currents were too strong for them, and again they failed. So
disheartened were they now, that caring little for life, they agreed to
return to their original station on Wager's Island, and to end their
days in miserable existence there.

They went back to the place where they had left the four marines in
order to try to get some seal for their return passage and to take these
men back with them, but when they searched all traces of them had gone.

It was here that the surgeon found in a curious cave the bodies of
several Indians that were stretched out on a kind of platform. The
flesh on the bodies had become perfectly dry and hard, and it was
thought that it must be the kind of burial given to the great men or
Caciques of the Indians.

After a terrible journey back to Wager's Island they reached it alive,
though again worn out by hunger and fatigue.

The first thing they did on reaching their old station was to bury the
corpse of