Several Of The Natives Came On Board With Peltries,
But There Was No Disposition To Trade.
They were interrogated by
signs after the lost boats, but could not understand the
inquiries.
Parties now Went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. One of
these was headed by the captain. They had not proceeded far when
they beheld a person at a distance in civilized garb. As he drew
near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer. There was a burst of
joy, for it was hoped his comrades were near at hand. His story,
however, was one of disaster. He and his companions had found it
impossible to govern their boat, having no rudder, and being
beset by rapid and whirling currents and boisterous surges. After
long struggling they had let her go at the mercy of the waves,
tossing about, sometimes with her bow, sometimes with her
broadside to the surges, threatened each instant with
destruction, yet repeatedly escaping, until a huge sea broke over
and swamped her. Weekes was overwhelmed by the broiling waves,
but emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions.
Aiken and Coles were not to be seen; near him were the two
Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing that
they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the boat
floating near to him he seized hold of it. The two islanders
joined him, and, uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning
the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her stern and rocking
her, they forced out so much water that she was able to bear the
weight of a man without sinking. One of the islanders now got in,
and in a little while bailed out the water with his hands. The
other swam about and collected the oars, and they all three got
once more on board.
By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, and
Weekes called on his companions to row for land. They were so
chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all
heart, and absolutely refused. Weekes was equally chilled, but
had superior sagacity and self-command. He counteracted the
tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold produces by keeping
himself in constant exercise; and seeing that the vessel was
advancing, and that everything depended upon himself, he set to
work to scull the boat clear of the bar, and into quiet water.
Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; his companion
threw himself on his corpse and could not be persuaded to leave
him. The dismal night wore away amidst these horrors: as the day
dawned, Weekes found himself near the land. He steered directly
for it, and at length, with the aid of the surf, ran his boat
high upon a sandy beach.
Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of
life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him
towards the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was too
feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to abandon him
to his fate and provide for his own safety.
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