Sickness and Famine

The humidity of the climate and continual hardships began to tell on the health of the party. The first sufferer was Mr Williams himself; and the commencement of his illness is thus recorded: —

“Monday, February 25. — Obliged to lie by in consequence of a severe chill caught on Friday.

“Wednesday, March 12. — I am just recovering from a severe illness, having been confined to bed and to the boat, with the exception of the last few days, during which I have been able to walk on the beach at favorable opportunities, since Monday the 25th of February. I caught a violent chill from putting on damp flannels, and having been for some time weakly and disordered through want of proper animal food — having it only twice a-week. Owing to the weakening and disturbing effect of a farinaceous diet, so long continued, when the cold attacked me it threatened at once to prostrate all my powers, and assumed an alarming aspect. But the hand of the Lord was graciously with me, and by a clear perception of what means I ought to use I was able to treat myself very successfully. There was every threatening of rheumatic fever, and the pain in my limbs was excruciating, whilst considerable feverishness set in; but the medicines were all remarkably efficacious, and through these and the kind nursing of Mr Maidment, who waited upon me with affectionate and assiduous attention, by the blessing of God I am now fast recovering.

“Monday, March 17. — Goodness and mercy follow me; yea, abundantly so, and my heart rejoices in God my Saviour. Bodily, I am in a poor weak state, having been getting worse for some days past, with symptoms of that prostrating disease, the scurvy. Poor Badcock, I am also sorry to say, has symptoms of the same too; indeed, we are all in a very weak condition, Erwin and Mr Maidment complaining. How are we brought low! But thou, 0 God, hast the ordering of all things. Wise and good are all thy ways. Thou knowest the end from the beginning, and orderest all things according to thy will. Thy will be done, 0 God, and blessed for ever be thy holy name.

“Wednesday, March 19. — This morning at seven o’clock we weighed anchor, and quitted Earnest Cove for Banner Cove, in order to be in readiness against a vessel’s coming, and that we might not miss her. This is a sudden movement of ours, as the time contemplated for changing our locality was still distant some weeks; but the Captain was suddenly impressed with the necessity of our doing so, and became anxious lest we should miss our vessel. The change was only proposed yesterday, and carried into execution to-day. One circumstance of a somewhat singular character helped to hasten the present decision; that was the taking fire of the ‘Hurricane house,’ as we called it, a place fitted up by the Captain for his sleeping apartment, in lieu of the stranded and dissevered boat, from whence kindness and consideration towards me, on account of my illness, had driven him. The ‘Hurricane house’ was composed of a row of poles, inclined against a rocky projection, some sails and canvas being used to cover them, and thus keep out the wind and rain. To keep it warm, a fire was maintained night and day, and owing to the fire having blazed up very fiercely a few mornings back, the canvas caught fire, and the flames extended to the wood above the rocks, and a considerable conflagration ensued. We consequently expected that the natives from some quarter or other would see it; and although this proved not to be the case, yet it seemed to impress the Captain as an intimation for us to stir and be going. The night following the fire, a stone from the rocks above gave way, and fell just where the Captain’s head would have been had he continued to sleep there. Behold the goodness and mercy of God’s providential care!

“I am writing this as I He in bed; we have but light wind, almost a calm, which enables me to do so. Unhappily I am not getting better, and last night I was much distressed with the feeling of my excessive debility, and the pains in my limbs. Situated as we are, it is impossible to obtain the means necessary to my recovery, such as animal food and wine. How needful it is that a vessel should speedily arrive! But God will order all things; of this I am fully sure, and with joy and assurance I can yield myself into the Lord’s hand, without a care possessing my breast as to when or how he will provide.

“Reliance Cove, Friday, March 21. — We arrived here safely by the mercy of God yesterday morning, at about ten o’clock. The wind at the time of our setting out was blowing from the eastward, and every thing very propitious, the morning being beautifully fine. Before we got out of the harbour a calm ensued, which detained us the best part of the morning; afterwards it freshened up from the north and north-west, still blowing from a quarter that happily favored us, and where by our passage was rendered comparatively a short one, — short, indeed, compared with what might have been expected, when the winds for weeks and even months together are from the south and south west, and this with fearful gales and overwhelming tempests.

“During the night of Wednesday, while we were pursuing our way over the watery deep, the wind repeatedly threatened to blow hard, sudden gusts coming on and betokening what hard things should follow. The swell was great, and the angry sea raged around our little boat and dashed its billows over it, so that the water penetrated both fore and aft, and wetted our beds, especially those of the men in the fore part. Heavily laden as our boat likewise was, crowded indeed in every part, she was quite top-heavy, and out of trim, as it is called; that is, the weight above did not bear the just proportion to her capacity beneath. There was really ground for fear, and the men were more than once alarmed lest she should capsize. I lay conscious and satisfied that I and all of us were in the hand of the Lord, and assured that, holding the winds in the hollow of his fist, he could restrain his rough wind, and say unto the sea and its boiling waves, ‘Peace, be still.’ I did not, however, rest on this conviction, but frequently during the night lifted up my soul to God in prayer, and I did observe a coincidence between the asking of God and the sub sidence of the wind, yea, more than once that night. Great was the peace I knew, and wonderful was the loving-kindness of the Lord, supporting, yea, blessing me, with joy in his Holy Spirit, in the midst of much bodily weakness.

“Reliance Cove, where we now are, derives its claim to that title from some outlying rocks breaking the great swell of the ocean, except when the wind blows from the south south-west, to east south east.

“To-day, although I have not ventured at all out of bed, even to sit up, yet, through the goodness of God, I feel better than yesterday, during the whole of which I was very ill. My disease is gaining ground, though I hope but slowly. The Captain and Mr Maidment are at present gone ashore, to explore the coast in the direction of Banner Cove or westward, to find, if possible, a better and safer anchorage. They have been gone since the morning, and a terrible walk they will have; for the Captain is iron-hearted as to difficulties, and almost incapable of fatigue, — at least he will not yield to anything less than impossibilities. Poor Mr Maidment is by no means in a state for such a trial of strength, being in fact very weak and unwell. May God preserve them and bless them both! In their absence I have got poor John Badcock, my fellow-sufferer, to come and take up his abode with me for the day, and we have both been greatly refreshed, whilst we have communed together in the Lord. How sweet is Christian fellowship and sympathy, when springing from Christian love!

“Since writing the above, I have had the men together and joined with them in a hymn and prayer. 0, how greatly did I feel the melody of song in my heart! It was like a little heaven below. 0 that such feasts of sacred love and communion with God were mine day by day! but they are as stolen waters. — It is getting late in the evening, and the Captain and Mr Maidment are not returned. Thrice have I lifted up my soul to God, beseeching that no evil may come upon them.

“— Thank God, they are returned in safety, coming back a little after nine o’clock, having gone, by the Captain’s admission, more than sixteen miles there and back, and through a rough and mountainous country. I hear the Captain give expression to weariness and fatigue, and, to my great surprise, Mr Maidment seems really less affected than the Captain; thus assuredly the Lord strengthened him, for when he set out he was a poor, tottering, and disabled person.

“Saturday, March 22. — I was exceedingly ill last night, — the sense of exhaustion being as though the life-blood were leaving my heart. This arose partly from my being too free yesterday in talking, singing, and praying; but so great was my happiness that I availed myself of the joyous moments as they passed. But another reason is the want of sufficient support. I never slept a moment the whole night, and towards the morning cold shivers came on.

“This morning we left Reliance Harbour for some new abode. Whither we were bound circumstances would decide. The name of Reliance Cove was properly given, for our reliance was not in the protection it was capable of affording, but upon God who made it a place of shelter during a short halt by the way. Both nights we remained there the wind rose and threatened to blow hard, which had it done, we certainly should have had our boat dashed in pieces against the steep shingle beach! A few hours only after we left, a strong breeze from the southward sprang up, which would have blown right into the cove, and the swell of the ocean here is quite terrible. It is remarkable also, that the day of our leaving Earnest Cove, in Spaniard Harbour, the wind blew strong in from the eastward, and consequently, right into the cove, — the only time of its blowing strong from that quarter since our arrival there. It might have damaged our remaining boat, and most certainly, as it was full moon, and consequently spring tide, we should have been dislodged both from the cavern and our stranded boat. Thus how clearly has God manifested his providential care over us. 0 how good is the Lord, and how greatly to be praised! Blessed be his name for ever!

Our passage from Reliance Cove to-day has been very trying. The weather has been boisterous, strong squalls, ’ williwaws,’ with hail and snow; the sea consequently has been very rough, and our cockle-shell of a boat, with its disproportioned deck-load, has not been free from danger of a sudden capsize. However, here we are, nearly at the entrance of Banner Cove once more, the only place where we poor strolling outcasts can find a secure anchorage ground. It is now nearly nine o’clock, and a dark and cheerless night. Thank God, we have escaped all the dangers of the day, and doubtless, God willing, shall escape the perils of the night. I have been very weak and poorly all the day, and whilst cooped up in bed, swinging under the iron canopy of our cribbed and scanty cabin, and hearing the waters dash over, yes, and sometimes tasting a little of them, even inside; whilst thus situated, rolling and rocking about, trying to escape from the gathering tempest, and hastening our way to a refuge, yet knowing not whither we should go, nor where our resting-place would be, my position was not calculated to fascinate the eye. Very weak have I felt myself, and Satan has urged his fierce assaults upon me. I had not strength to read, nor indeed to pray. Joy I could not summon to my heart, and I felt greatly wanting in love and in thankfulness and praise. But what could I do? I strove to pray; yea, I told the Lord I loved him with all my heart, and I blessed his holy name: yet words came not to my thoughts, and thoughts came not to my desires. I called, and all was silent: no voice responded. I did not discern the meaning of this at the time. I did not see that God had left me to a naked faith, and that it was to pass through a fiery ordeal in contending with all my trials and temptations. I saw danger on every side, but I feared it not. o

Temptation pointed to death from the floods even as I was, cabined up in this small smoking place; then to death as likely to be the issue of my present disease, sea-scurvy, and no adequate means, no remedy at hand; and then to death as inflicted by the jagged war-spear of the Fuegian, or his deadly sling. But faith was more than conqueror, through Him that loved me and gave himself for me. It could and did answer, that if God willed either to take place, I desired nothing but his will, and in that case any death would be a welcome summons to a glorious immortality.

“After much conflict of this kind, I took up my Bible to try to read it; but I felt as though it would be impossible to summon up application sufficient for this delightful task, and I turned listlessly over the page, till my attention was powerfully arrested by these words of St Peter, ‘But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.’ I at once saw the Lord, and heard the voice of my God, and great was the consolation imparted to me thus by Christ Jesus. ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name.’ Now can I, and now do I, with all sweetness and assurance of hope, with peace and joy, leave myself in the hand of the Lord that he may do with me whatsoever seemeth him good, content in knowing that whatever be the way he takes with me, I shall see his great, yea his wonderful salvation, and give glory to his excellent name for ever.

“Monday, March 24. — At Banner Cove again; and with the mercy and goodness of God very manifest both in bringing us here at this time, and in the providential arrangement of circumstances favorable to our safely and peaceably remaining here. May I never forget thy benefits, 0 my God, but give thee endless praise!

“It was nearly three o’clock on Sunday morning, that we cast anchor once more off our old and much to be remembered Station Hill, near to which we had built our wigwam, and dug a garden, and where our supplies of water were got from; and glad were all hands to find a place of rest after their fatiguing and harassing day’s work. On glancing their eyes in the direction of our old quarters, the men discovered a light from a fire, kindled, they thought, in our wigwam. We there fore concluded that it had been taken possession of, and was now inhabited by the natives. In the morning, however, it was discovered that a new wigwam had been built during our absence, near our own, and ocular demonstration was soon afforded, as also by the well known vociferations addressed to the ears, that a large party of natives was established here. We now of course expected to behold the face of Jemmy, and his redoubtable associates, our late mortal foes, and that we should have a repetition of the trials which we had formerly encountered here. We were therefore agreeably surprised, when they came off to us, to find that they were all entire strangers. The party numbered fourteen or fifteen, five men and five women, the rest children. They appeared rather a more squalid lot than our former companions, and not possessed of the same energy of character. Should their number not be increased by the addition of others, or of our old acquaintances, we shall be able to stay here in comfort and in peace. All things are in God’s hand, and he will temper the wind to his shorn lambs. I doubt it not. His mercy is over all his works, and he loves us with a Father’s tender love and gentle compassion. He will do all things well for us; of this I am deeply assured.

“Yesterday (Sunday) the day was very stormy, the equinoctial gales blowing most furiously, and from the southward, so that had we been at Reliance Harbour we must have perished, or had we been at sea our danger would have been great. Snow fell with rain, and the temperature was very low. Being in bed, I did not feel it, as happily our quarters are warm enough when closed up. I now am wholly confined to my bed, not daring to venture up, fearing that the exertion of rising would prostrate me too much. The Lord does make all my bed in my sickness; the angel of his presence overshadowing my soul, and hanging about me with such irradiations of glorious light,

—the light of God’s love, — that I am happy, very happy, and not a moment sits wearily upon me. Sweet is the presence of Jesus, and oh! I am happy in his love.

“After the trials I encountered on Saturday, and our knocking about was over, the sleep that followed was, I think, the most refreshing that I ever enjoyed; not so much because it was a balmy restorative to my poor debilitated body, but because if ever the whisperings of Almighty love spoke tranquillity to the soul of man, and breathed a continued flow of divine consolation upon his heart, I felt them that night. I was, so to speak, talking with the Lord, and his grace supplied me with such rich treasure of wisdom in the discourse, and his unction so made the purport of my thoughts to diffuse a precious odor and a rich influence around me, that I could very well have thought I was in Paradise. I might have thought so, but that the subject-matter of my communings with the Lord, was the services, the joyful, heart felt services, I should render unto him in this my lifetime, and period of sojourn here on earth. My heart seemed to tell the Lord how willingly, how gladly, my poor all should be given unto him, to spend and be spent for him alone; and how I should triumph with heavenly delight, whilst glorying that, by the power of his grace, I was able to win souls to Christ. And whilst such were my thoughts, the Lord seemed to accept me in all my proffered service, and to pour upon me the blessings of his grace, so that he was unto me as the dew unto Israel. Communion, heavenly and blessed! Earnest of joys to come, and foretaste of that inheritance undefiled and that fadeth not away, where I shall see him face to face, yea, behold him as he is, not even the transparent veil of a divine faith being betwixt him and me! And how transcendently glorious is the further assurance, that when we do see him as he is, we shall be like him, partakers of his divine nature, and sharers of his glorious image. 0 God, my Lord, for ever be thy name adored.

“To-day we hope to recover the provisions which we stowed away when we were here before. Amongst these is a barrel of pork, purchased of the Ocean Queen; this will be of great service to our party, and will, I trust, with God’s blessing, strengthen them greatly. Our preserved meat is now nearly out, our store of spirits nearly exhausted, and when these are ended, as in a week or two they will be, then with the prophet Habakkuk I will exclaim, as I know by grace I shall be able to do, ‘Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.’” I have been greatly gratified and affected by pleasing evidence that the work of grace is deepened in my brethren’s minds. This, not in one, but I think in all. The trials and dangers we have been subject to, have, by the sanctifying grace of God, had a gracious influence. Yesterday and Saturday I was quite affected by the kindness of the Captain, and his humble and gentle deportment; his prayer, too, yesterday, was an outpouring of his soul before God, in so unaffected and sincere a manner, with such unqualified expressions of resignation to the will, and humble trust in the mercy, of God, that it did make me own with joy, that here is a child of God addressing the Father of all mercies. This morning, too, the prayer of Mr Maidment was in like manner a sincere breathing out of the soul in humble supplication and confident trust in God. Oh! I am glad and rejoice in the Lord to see my brethren thus meek and trustful.

“Banner Cove, Wednesday, March 26. — Yesterday the party of natives left the harbour, with what intent we of course are ignorant. In order to be in as great a state of preparedness as possible, and to omit no way of affording intelligence to the vessel that should come to our relief, provided we were forced to leave this part again, the place appointed for her coming to, the Captain has enclosed notices in bottles, and sunk them in various places, with boards erected above them, and letters painted thereon, ‘Look underneath.’ A copy of these notices is as follows: —

“‘The natives are hostile. We are obliged to move from place to place. If not in Banner Cove, we shall be near Cape Rees or Cape James, on the N.E. side of Navarin Island; if not there, in Spaniard Harbour, which is on the main island, not far from Cape Kinnaird. We have sickness on board, our supplies are nearly out, and if not soon relieved we shall be starved. We do not intend to go to Staten Island, but, if unable to remain at the two places indicated above, to run for Spaniard Harbour, and stay there in a cove, on the western side, until some vessel comes to our assistance.

(Signed) ALLEN F. GARDINER,

Superintendent of the Mission.
BANNER COVE,
March 28, 1851, Wednesday.’

“We yesterday got back our provisions which had been deposited at Tent Cove, consisting of three barrels of biscuits, and the barrel of pork. How thankful ought we to be that they had never been discovered by the natives! The goats on Garden Island they have disappointed us of, having destroyed them all.

“Yesterday the sun being out for a little while, I got outside my prison-house, and how greatly did I feel the invigorating effect of the sight of this interesting spot, the scenery quite beautiful! To-SICKNESS AND FAMI>7E. 217

day, the weather being cold, I could not venture out of bed.

“Banner Cove, March 27. — To-day a fresh party of natives have made their appearance, to our discomfort. It was blowing very hard at the time they came in, which we could only account for on the supposition that they had received intelligence of our arrival from the party which left on Tuesday, as in general they are so cautious and indisposed to move about in rough weather. Amongst them were some of our old acquaintance, and doubtless they are but the harbingers of the whole of our evil-disposed former associates. They have been very boisterous and presuming, and have displayed the same daring as before. Whilst all our party were on deck, excepting Badcock and myself, they cut the rope attached to our raft, and but for the alertness of our men, would have had it adrift. We expect that to-mor row others will arrive, and we all fear that it is impracticable’ for us to stay here. Should the weather therefore permit, the Captain proposes to start the first thing in the morning for Spaniard Harbour again, the only place where there is rest for the soles of our feet. And there we shall remain, as far as we can tell, till a vessel comes to our relief. In the meantime, not a being on the earth will have any knowledge of the place where we are; but God knows, and how much better to be known, and to know we are seen, of God, than to have the eyes of the whole world resting upon us! I have been more than once struck with the thought that our present separation from the haunts and abodes of all we have ever known, is a striking illustration of that separation which death makes. We are, as it were, dead to our dear friends, yet we are living. We have the active faculties of the soul still at work, incessantly bringing our dear ones to our remembrance; but we are no longer living amongst them, identified in all our interests with them. But we are living in God and to God. He is our being and end, and with him alone we are identified now through the exceeding riches of the grace abounding unto us in Christ Jesus. Yet we are associated in love with all our earthly friends more sweetly, more firmly, more endearingly than ever. May God bless them all, is my fervent prayer.

“Friday, March 28. — Left Banner Cove this morning at half-past four o’clock. The natives as usual had retired to their wigwam soon after sun set; but they were up and stirring as early as one o’clock. Of course we had kept a watch. From one o’clock until the hour of our departure they were very busily employed. Their early rising confirmed our suspicion that they expected to be joined by others, and their incessant hammering on the trunks of trees, appeared to be a sort of signal as to their whereabouts. We never knew the natives to be moving about until three or four, even in summer when it was quite light; but, setting aside these signs of concerted vigilance on their part, we were morally certain that there would be a large muster of them in the course of the day.

“Spaniard Harbour, March 29, Saturday afternoon. — We are now just sighting Earnest Cove, after being becalmed in the entrance of the Harbour the most part of the day. We had what the sailors call a fine start of wind, blowing from the northward and westward, and which brought us into the troubled water of Slogget Bay soon after nightfall, and which freshening up and blowing in sudden and violent blasts, we were again in danger of capsizing. As I lay in bed, I heard the Captain say, ‘It is a wonder we were not capsized.’ At first, it was proposed to lie-to for the night in the bay, and not to encounter the tide races which we should meet in rounding the cape. However, we pursued our way without stoppage, groping along in the dark, and tumbling over the billows.

“Earnest Cove, Tuesday, April 1. — The morning being fine, and the sun shining quite warm, I ventured to rise, and got out into the stern-sheets; but I soon became so sensible of my weakness, my limbs almost failing me, and faintness and pains coming on, that I hastened back to my peaceful bed, where alone I can obtain any mitigation to the distresses of my body. Sometimes I almost forget that anything is the matter with me, and would almost persuade myself that if I were up I should still feel the same; but, alas! the trial soon shews how slight is the ground of my expectation. But as I, day by day, and night by night, lie here, what a world, unknown to the world, do I live in! God is indeed about my bed, and spies out all my ways, and his countenance is over me for good. How blessed is the thought! The Lord is teaching me, and counselling my heart with his hidden wisdom, and making known his secret unto me; yea, he is revealing unto my soul the deep things of God, and giving me spiritual understanding in the knowledge of that which hath been hidden from the foundation of the world. The glory and everlasting praise be to my God, through Jesus Christ my Lord.

“Wednesday Evening, eight o’clock, April 9. — To-day we have had most boisterous weather, the sea and the waves roaring. Happily we are well sheltered, so as not to be exposed to any danger, at least we trust not; yet the surf on the shore is prodigious in volume, and the straining jerk on our hawser is somewhat alarming at times. We are, however, in God’s hands. The cold has been very severe to-day, and this, together with the raging of the tempest, the gloom of a sunless day, and the heavy fall of hail and rain, has rendered our position somewhat cheerless. Badcock and I are companions in affliction. We get no better, but worse

—the disease slowly progressing. However, poor John has not yet suffered anything like the same amount of prostration as myself. The exhaustion occasioned by my previous illness accounts for the difference. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday last were rather distressing days. The oppression from my bodily disorder was very great, and so incapable of all exertion did I feel, that I could not apply my mind to reading. On Sunday night I made it an especial matter of prayer, that God would so strengthen my mind that I might be able to exercise it in reading; and my prayer was answered, for with great delight I spent nearly the whole of the next day on Bonar’s Commentary on Leviticus, and the Bible in conjunction therewith.

“Our boat is in some respects unsuitable. If we draw up the door at the entrance to our berth, we then exclude all air, as there is no other opening, not even for ventilation. But on the other hand, if we have it open, then the wind and the cold night air come in, and render clothing almost ineffectual for keeping us warm. So I felt it last night, and upon previous occasions, — a cold, chilly sensation pervading my back. If to obviate this, we close the door altogether, the vapor from our breaths accumulates on the iron roof of our deck, only a few inches higher than our pillows, and drops over us and trickles down on our beds in such quantities that we find it very troublesome. Add to this the muddled state of our apartments, from our not being able to dispose things comfortably about us, not having now for several days been able so much as to get out of bed to have it made. Add also that our appetites rather fail in attacking the boiled pork, which at first was a great treat, and that the preserved meat is fast hastening to an end, as is also our supply of spirits. Add to this that our kind and attentive nurse, Bryant, a most affectionate and sympathis-, ing attendant, is himself shewing symptoms of the disease. Add to this the uncertainty as to when a vessel may come to our relief, and the possibility that she may not see and observe our notices put up on various parts of Banner Cove, and so not come at all; and you may ask if we have not some ground of apprehension concerning our supplies and well-being. I can deliberately answer, that my mind is free from such apprehension; and although I have felt so weak that I could take comfort in scarcely anything, nor could even coerce my mind into an active contemplation of God’s goodness so as to give and feel praise to Him, yet I do know and am confident ’ the Lord will provide,’ and that we shall want no good thing, nor suffer more than we can bear, neither shall evil betide us. The Lord is with us, and will not fail us in our heed; but our extremity will be his opportunity.

“Earnest Cove, Saturday, April 12. — Last night we had the most fearful storm we have encountered at all. It commenced about nine or ten o’clock, and continued to rage throughout the night. Before witnessing it, we had no just conception of what a south-west gale in these latitudes is. It reminded me of the blast from the iron mouth of the bellows at a smelting furnace; or what might be supposed would be the rush and violence of a furious storm driving through a tunnel. During the whole period the roar and wail of the tempest around us and in the distance were appalling. The bands of violence seemed let loose, and we could not but feel that the time was * one of peril and alarm. Sheltered as we were, by being all but land-locked, we found that we were not out of reach of its direct assault, when gathering its forces from every quarter, its tremendous gusts were every now and then aimed straight at our devoted heads. The rush, and fury, and force of its beating point-blank upon us were tremendous. Our poor boat trembled and quivered, and the hawser whereby it was made fast to the shore became as ‘taught’ as it could be; but still time after time it lifted its head up uninjured. The night was dark, and very wet, and much hail fell. We ascertained that the Captain, Mr Maidment, and Pearce, who slept ashore, were up, and with drawn to the cavern, and we rightly conjectured that they were in great and painful anxiety on our account. They and the men on board were greatly afraid that the hawser, which was but a small one, would give way, and in that case our anchor might drag, and so we should be driven out to sea or dashed upon the rocks. Not one of our party slept the whole night, but with anxious expectation looked out for the coming day. When the morning came, one proof was afforded us of the fury of the gale. A pair of trowsers and a woollen jersey had been made fast to the mast to dry, tied with a rope; the legs of one, and the body of the other, were torn right off, leaving the waist of the former and the arms of the other remaining.

“Cook’s River, Monday, April 14. — In consequence of our late severe weather, and the dangers to which we were exposed, the Captain thought it advisable to take the first opportunity for removing to Cook’s River, where storms can in no way endanger us. We are accordingly come here this afternoon. The opening is narrow indeed, and it is defended from the sea by a shifting bar, over which the sea roars with a vain effort to disquiet the peaceful waters inside. This river, or rivulet rather, expands into a small lake, which trends along the head of the bay, and then winds about in many serpentine foldings, until it loses itself in a small stream. To the bar at the entrance, and to one a little further to the seaward, the ducks, gulls, divers, and shags, often resort in large numbers. ‘The evening being fine, I got up to have a look around me, and never did I feel more interested in any scene, unless I may except the sight of Banner Cove under similar circumstances. On both occasions the deep verdure mingling with the many shades of the now fading beech, with the grand and wild mountain scenery stretching along the side of the Bay, and the forest- covered hills overhanging us to the south, and, above all, the bright beams of a fiery and storm-portending sun, going down beyond the furthest range of highlands in the deep background, leaving broad tracks of light betwixt the clouds of indigo and purple, — all had a vivid and strong effect upon my feelings, and greatly cheered me. Seeing the sunset once more, for it i long since I beheld it, my soul aspired towards the plains of light, and I could conceive some such a portal as yon bright scene, only brighter, brighter far, and cloudless, opened into the paradise of our God. Thither my happy spirit bent its way upon the wings of hope, faith pointing out the pathway to the golden gate, and love desiring and hastening on the soul to win so priceless an inheritance among the saints in light.

“Good Friday, April 18. — Since writing the above, we have had gales and furious storms in almost constant succession, the weather being severely cold, with a considerable fall of snow, and with dreary hail-storms and sleet. I have frequently lifted my head from my pillow to look out on the cold and cloudy and wintry scenes around me. My bed-head being close to the door, by just lifting myself up, I could see the mountains to the south of us, and their new vesture of driven snow. p

The first sight of this, the fall being great during the night of the 15th, was very full of pleasure to me. Dreary and desolate as was the scene, I could yet feel pleasure in the grandeur and magnificence of its very wildness. The aspect of nature was all around changed; and with the winds howling around, the sea roaring over the sand-bank close by, the air filled everywhere with falling snow, and with that peculiar sense of lonesome isolation which * a bleak winter scene conjures up in the mind, suggesting our need of relative and social connexions, — there was still a sense of the sublime truly pleasurable.

“To-day, the weather having abated its violence, I availed myself of the afternoon sunshine to get up for a short time. I could scarcely support myself, and had to take freely of spirits to enable me to keep up a little while; but the enjoyment of looking around me is so great, that I mind not a little trouble to accomplish it. Poor John [Badcock], alas! cannot do this much, and is decidedly getting worse than myself, the disease making more progress with him than with me; yet we fare in all respects alike, and share the same comforts, and use the same means, and certainly I was much worse than he at the beginning. His legs are swollen and discolored, his gums get very bad, his loss of blood is frequent, and the prostration of his strength is daily more marked. I am truly affected by observing this; but I keep him from knowing my suspicions, and as I treat my own case very lightly, and, by the grace of God, am ever able to keep a cheerful countenance, I succeed in preserving his mind from the alarm and despondency so peculiar to this disease, and which so greatly adds to its distress. Poor and weak though we are, our abode is a very Bethel to our souls, and God we feel and know is here. John often smiles through a tear that flows from a heart full of a sense of God’s love; and though both of m us subject to many infirmities, and sensible of our IP numberless shortcomings, yet moments so speed by, many of them winged with aspirations after God, that we ourselves forget all our bodily com plaints, until reminded of them by exhaustion.

“As the weather gets colder, we naturally enough wish to hasten the period of the vessel’s arrival that shall bring us succour, and carry us hence.

“During the day, whilst storms are raging especially, we are under the necessity of shutting out the light, in order to exclude the cold; and at other times our place is filled with the smoke which is blown in from the stove close to us in the stern-sheets. At low water too, now that we are in Cook’s River, our boat heels over so that John is at one time deep down on the lee-side, at another time I; and then one of us gets all or the most part of the water accumulating from condensation on the iron roof, which drips on our head and back, or saturates our pillows and bed-clothes, fo

: should they also unhappily gravitate leeward. We, however, look these inconveniences well in the face, and by patience disarm them of half their unpleasantness, — a good lesson acquired in the school of experience, with the grace of God for our helper and teacher.

“To-day the first of our supplies, tapioca, which we have depended much upon, having had of it for our breakfast daily, has failed us; our only remaining substitute being rice., Somewhat more

rious than this, is the fact, that after having exhausted our store of brandy and of rum, we are now drawing upon our last bottle of gin; and as it grows less and less, whilst we consume it by another and another draught, necessary to stimulate our debilitated bodies and recover us from our severe fits of exhaustion, we look at each other and say, ‘The sooner gone, the sooner the ship must come! ‘This sentiment the Captain also gave utterance to to-day, and indeed it is our general feeling, belief, and hope, that God will permit our means to fail us, and just then his mercy will shine forth in the opportune and gracious deliverance which he shall send us.

“The Captain, who happily continues well, but unaccompanied by Mr Maidment, who is suffering from cold, came and held service with us. The sermon he read was out of a volume by the Rev. J. Harington Evans, on the seventeenth chapter of John. It was a delightful and most appropriate discourse, — the subject being, ‘Finished Work/

“Monday, April 21. — To-day the boat was moored in-shore, close to the bank, so that we can step from the deck on the land; and I felt greatly tempted to try once more to put my foot ashore. I therefore got up, and with the assistance of Bryant, stepped on the green turf. But to my surprise I found that I had no power.^ over my limbs, and the attempt at progression was almost ludicrous; for my legs went sideways rather than forward, and I must have fallen had I not’^een supported by Bryant. Although I have frequent distressing bodily prostration, with great languor, I praise God that only on one occasion has my mind greatly participated. Some times so powerless as to be unable for reading or much thought, I have felt this state to be merely passive, and without any positive gloom or real depression of spirits.

“This night we have a pretty hard frost, which covers the roof above my head with its hoary frost-work. It pinches me much, my back especially, clothes being insufficient to keep me warm.

“Thursday, May 1. — The violence and in clemency of a Fuegian winter have been now for some time felt by us. We have had the snow falling day by day, covering all around with its white mantle, and with this a daily succession of fearful storms of wind. In our present position we are more than ever exposed to the raging of the blast and the penetrating of the cold, as to the westward we are open to the plains or valleys which stretch beneath the mountains. At times we greatly feel the cold, being obliged to remain shut up in the darkness of our berth by day as well as by night, save when relieved by the light of our candle. Occasionally, however, we get an interval of moderate weather, and the ffect of it is very cheering to us all. Our provisions are fast consuming away: our ’ sick diet,’ in particular, is likely to come to an end still more speedily; the preserved meat and pork being now nearly finished, and our stock of spirits, having had no wine, having been for some days exhausted. We have tried in vain to catch fish in the net and with a line. None are to be seen, and although ducks and wild fowl are not scarce around us, we have no means of getting at them.

“On Friday the Captain and Mr Maidment succeeded in catching a fox, or rather in killing him. He had frequently paid them visits during the night, entering the cavern whilst they were in bed in the boat, and making free with whatever came to hand. He had carried off pieces of pork, shoes, and even books; and to the great mortification of Mr Maidment, his Bible was among the latter, which being bound in morocco, was doubtless a booty to the hungry beast. They therefore laid a bait for him, a piece of pork attached by a cord to the trigger of a loaded gun, so placed that when he took the bait he should fire the gun. He fired it off once, but escaped unhurt; twice the cap went off, but the powder did not take fire. At last, he received the whole discharge in his breast. In his stomach were found feathers, fish, and mice. He was a fine animal, with a splendid brush. Albeit the odium attached to a fox, our party on shoraJj have already so far overcome any such fastidiousness, that this morning they made a hearty breakfast of his ’ pluck.’ His quarters are cut up and kept in reserve. This is not the first extraordinary bonne bouche our worthy caterer has put upon the spit, or made into soup for us. The penguin and shag, and the equally fishy-tasted duck, have all contributed their quota. The penguin was caught on shore, without attempting to get away, more than by a backward movement, as Mr Maidment laid hold on him. The shag was asleep on a fallen tree, lying on the beach, so that Mr M. caught it also by hand.

“The most formidable drawback of all, is the dampness of the boat. Although I have my Mackintosh spread over my bed, the water from the roof lodges in pools upon it, and has at length saturated the counterpane under it. The side of our beds, and all our clothes there, as well as at the head and the foot, are all wringing wet. One night I felt a deadly chill from the damp, from which for hours I could get no relief, and having failed of our supply of spirits, I had a great pain the whole night, which continued very severe the two following days. Whilst it lasted I was almost tempted to think I could not recover; the prostration of death seemed upon me.

“Wednesday, May 7. — To-day we have been just eight months from the time of our leaving Liverpool. The weather is now confirmed in its interly severity, and we have had pretty hard frosts, sufficient to freeze large portions of the river in which we are lying, and which drifts past us at each ebb tide.

“This evening, having Pearce in addition to our company, I felt in prayer much softening and tenderness of heart, with longing after the perfect love of God. Pearce read Mr Wesley’s sermon on Repentance in Believers, and its plain, simple exhortations did me much good. Since then I have been able to exercise such a measure of faith in Christ as I had not felt before, and to realise blessings far higher. I could say that I did — I can say that I do love God with a love I had no conception of, with a love that actuates every faculty of my whole soul; and the love of God in Christ I feel beyond -all expression. This much I venture in much weakness to write; whether I shall be able to add much more to this journal is known only to God. But this I may say, I have not had at any time a disquieting thought, or a mistrusting fear as to the result. I have felt, Come life, come death, God’s will would be my choice. I have not had any doubts as to a vessel coming to our help. I have, for the most part, believed God would restore me to health, and I have thought, in accordance with a singular impression made on my mind, that my course would be directed back again to my native country. This I have believed — yet I cannot say that God will not take me hence, by taking m sooner than I expected to heaven and glory. HH will be done — his blessed will be done: I have no longer a choice, when I know his holy will. My poor frail body is now very attenuated, and my sinking, depressed feelings are very great at times. But my mind scarcely feels depression, and certainly no depression except in mourning over my unfaithfulness and shortcomings.

“Should anything prevent my ever adding to this, let all my beloved ones at home rest assured that I was happy, beyond all expression, the night I wrote these lines, and would not have changed situations with any man living. Let them also be assured, that my hopes were full and blooming with immortality; that heaven, and love, and Christ, which mean one and the same divine thing, were in my heart; that the hope of glory, the hope laid up for me in heaven, filled my whole heart with joy and gladness, and that to me to live is Christ, to die is gain. I am in a strait betwixt two, to abide in the body, or to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Let them know that I loved them, and prayed /or every one of them. God bless them all.

“Tuesday, May 20. — I am now, as it were, suspended by a slender thread betwixt life and death. Three days following I have had attacks, which seemed to threaten a termination in dissolution. But God is with me. I am happy in the Jove of Christ. I could not choose, were it left to me, whether to die or to live. I feel the conviction in my mind still strong that I shall recover; but I am got so near to heaven, by the falling into ruinous decay of this earthly house of my tabernacle, that another shake, and there seems reason to expect that my spul will be numbered with the departed who are gone to glory. This I can say, that no other thought or desire has crossed my mind, as a reason for the prolongation of my earthly existence, but that it might thereby please my Lord to make me an instrument of winning souls to him.

“Friday, May 23. — To-day I have felt much sinking, and have felt a desire to depart and be with Christ. Last night I felt much for the situation of my companions, and prayed to God with great fervor in their behalf, entreating the Lord to send relief to them, and if it were his will, that I should see that succour come, and then, if it pleased him, be taken hence. I excluded myself from any par-SICKNESS AyJD FAMINE. 235

ticipation of benefit to be derived from a vessel’s coming, lest I might seem to fall into impatience, or display aught else than absolute resignation to God’s holy will concerning myself. But I did feel I might intercede for others, and I sought God’s blessing on their bodies and souls. This evening I have been so allured by the love of Jesus, that I have not been able to refrain from asking the Lord to permit me to come to himself. Nothing on earth could hold back my wishes fro transporting me at once into his presence. I felt could be no sin to desire thus eagerly for heaven. Its light, its atmosphere, its peace, its joys, yea, and its holiness, were around my soul, and earth to my eyes seemed a dreary place. But am I ready to go? 0 yes; Jesus has made me ready. I could not be more ready than he can make me, were I to live a century longer. His blood, his precious blood, I bear upon my heart; his righteousness declared of God, I hold for my title-deed.

“Tuesday, May 27. — To-day I have perceived new symptoms, which shew the inroads of the disease upon my system, and strongly point out a fatal termination. Can I be in any way disappointed at this, instead of a life of much service and glory to God? No, not for a moment; for God’s glory can only be enhanced by fulfilling the counsels of his own will; and to suffer his blessed will, as much glorifies my God as to do it. I am not disappointed; rather do I rejoice greatly, that now it seems manifestly the design of God to take me hence. I have time after time felt an inexpressible desire to be with Christ, and to-day I have been ravished with his love. Should this then be the will of God, then, my beloved ones, weep not for me. Let no mourning thought possess your hearts, nor sigh of sadness once escape your lips. Say rejoicingly, How good was the Lord! how greatly was he blessed of God, and he is gone to be with Jesus! There you, my beloved ones, — you, my mother, you, my sisters, may all of you — oh yes, you will shortly meet me, — will you not? The love of Christ fills my heart; but with this love which loves him supremely, I love you as I never did before. But heaven is at hand. It is nigh to my soul. It is my home. I shall look for you there. There we shall meet to part no more. Its glories invite me. Its holiness, its purity, makes me desire it, where I shall no more feel the curse of sin, nor see that loathsome thing, corruption. I hail the glorious change. My soul rejoices in the Lord, and I would not exchange my dying hopes, surrounded as I now am with all earthly discomforts, for the greatest luxuries and all the blandishments the world could set before me; nay, nor could it stop one minute my onward flight to God, were the whole realm of nature, and every monarch with his crown, inviting me to linger for a while, and taste of honor, power, and earthly good. No, oh no! All that is vanity and a delusion. There is no other happiness but in knowing God, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent; in knowing him as our merciful, gracious, long-suffering God; forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin: and Jesus Christ as — no words can say what Jesus Christ is when you know him. This is the white stone, inscribed with a new name, which no one knows but he to whom it is given. 0 Jesus, blessed Mediator and Intercessor! into thy hands I commit my beloved ones. Do thou effectually prevai in the behalf of each, so that all may receive t Holy Spirit and the gift of eternal life, to thy own and the Father’s everlasting glory, world without end. Amen.” [Then follow affectionate messages to various friends by name.]

“Thursday, June 12. — Ah! I am happy day and night, hour by hour. Asleep or awake, I am happy beyond the poor compass of language to tell. My joys are with him whose delights have always been with the sons of men; and my heart and spirit are in heaven with the blessed. I have felt how holy is that company; I have felt how pure are their affections, and I have washed me in the blood of the Lamb, and asked my Lord for the white garment, that I, too, may mingle with the blaze of day, and be amongst them one of the sons of light.

“We have long been without animal food of any kind. Our diet consists of oatmeal and pease, with rice occasionally; but even of this we have only a stock sufficient to last out the present month, or a very short period beyond this. The weather is very severe, with a deep fall of snow on the ground. But this is not the worst feature of our case. All hands are now sadly affected. Captain Gardiner, a miracle of constitutional vigor, has suffered the least, and if I listened to his own words he is still none the worse; but his countenance bespeaks the contrary. Would it were not yo! Mr Maidment, likewise, has sustained the shock of our circumstances very well, but yet great debility is now manifesting itself. All the rest have decided symptoms of scurvy, and have some thing to do to stand under the burden of the duties devolving upon them; but their perseverance, and willingness, and patience, deserve the highest praise, whilst it elicits from our hearts a feeling sense of our obligations to them, and a regret to put them to such a severe trial. The Lord reward and bless them! Indeed, his blessing is upon them; and the Spirit of grace is deepening his work in their souls. Much more could I add, but my fingers are aching with cold, and I must wrap them up in the clothes. But my heart is warm — warm with praise, thanksgiving, and love to God my Father and to God my Redeemer.”

Up to this period Mr Williams’s Journal had been carefully kept; and, looking at its neat and legible pages; knowing, too, the distress and discomfort in the midst of which its latter portions were written, we cannot but regard it as a very affecting document. It is quite evident that he had acquired a fond attachment to this personal narrative, and that the hours passed lightly which were spent in its life-like society. Not only was it a survivor from brighter days, and a remembrance of the hopes and aspirations of the outward voyage, but it was becoming too manifest that his Burslem friends might have no other messenger to tell how it fared with him in the last stage of the pilgrimage. Eventually, therefore, we believe that it was chiefly for their sakes that, by the light of a candle, and with “aching fingers,” as he lay in his cheerless cabin, he continued to record the incidents and impressions of these lonely days.

We are now arrived at the last entry. It is dated, “Cook’s River, Sunday night, or possibly Monday morning, June 21 or 22” — the shortest day of those regions, when the night lasts sixteen hours. It tells how Pearce had come to sit up with the invalids, but had been persuaded to retire to rest; and it speaks of Badcock as dying. It contains expressions which would almost indicate that the mind of the writer was beginning to wander; but, even amidst confused perceptions, it shews that his faith in God was still clear and unclouded. The last words are: —

“When I left Burslem on the mission, it was with a secret confidence I should see the salvation of God. Oh, my soul hath beheld it! ‘But the greatest trouble,’ some would say, ’ is not over yet. You have but a week’s provision more, even at the rate you are now living at, and no certain expectation of a vessel’s coming in that time! ‘Yes, this is so; but I have a certain and sure expectation of deliverance in that time. To-day is June 22; for I believe it is far advanced in the morning. We shall see. He that belie veth shall never be confounded.

“Here I rest my hope.
“The Lord’s will be done.”

Captain Gardiner and Mr Maidment continued to lodge at the cavern, about a mile and a half from the mouth of Cook’s River, where the boat containing the rest of the party was moored. And though the distance was not great, so exhausted and weakened were they all, that they could not maintain a daily communication. But on Saturday, June 28, Captain Gardiner visited the Speedwell; and in his own brief journal he writes: —

“Found Mr Williams and Badcock to-day very ill. Mr Williams considers the latter beyond the hope of recovery. He is most patient, and leaning only upon his God. Mr Williams is certainly weaker than he has been during his long illness, and to-day spoke very incoherently. He was praying aloud when I reached the boat, for himself and his dying companion, committing themselves to God, and rejoicing in his faithfulness and truth. I have kept no record of the expressions which have fallen from him during my various visits to Cook’s River; but the invariable tenor of them has been entire resignation to the will of God, joy and peace in believing, and a firm trust in his Redeemer, with the full assurance that all had and still would work together for the advancement of his eternal interests. On one occasion, ’ that each day’s experience had proved a blessing, that he felt that no one of his trials (and he had many) could have been spared, that he had no will of his own, but left all in the hand of his heavenly Father, and that he was willing to depart in any way that the Lord should see fit.’ To-day he said, that ’ he only called upon God, on him alone he leaned, and that he was all to him.’”

At eleven o’clock on that same evening, John Badcock died. He requested Mr Williams to join him in singing a hymn, and repeated the 202d of Wesley’s Collection, beginning —

Arise, my soul, arise,

Shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice

In my behalf appears.
Before the throne my Surety stands;
My name is written on his hands.

He sang it through with a loud voice, and a few minutes afterwards expired.

Early in June the net, which had occasionally procured a few fishes, was carried away by the floating ice; and on the 4th of July Captain Gar-Q diner mentions, as all the provisions remaining in the cavern, “half a duck, about a pound of salt pork, the same of damaged tea, a pint of rice, two cakes of chocolate, and four pints of pease, to which I may add six mice.” From this time forward, to the end of their tragic history, they had little other subsistence besides mussels and limpets, and a species of gelatinous seaweed.

On Tuesday, July 22, Captain Gardiner writes — “For six days we have had no intercourse with Cook’s River, on account of the weather. I was there this afternoon, and John Bryant, to our great surprise, came over to us, being anxious to know how we were. Poor fellow! it is too great an exertion for him, although he says he feels better. Mr Williams is wonderfully supported, both in body and mind. The Lord has been very gracious to him. He is exceedingly weak, but has little pain, and says that he feels even better than he has done, although now reduced to subsist on mussels, which, to my great surprise, he is able to digest.”

On Saturday, August 23, Joseph Erwin, the carpenter, died; and the following Tuesday terminated the sufferings of another of the boatmen, John Bryant. Captain Gardiner was now confined to his bed, and the fatigue of burying his two companions so exhausted Mr Maidment, that he never rallied. On the 6th of September, Captain Gardiner wrote a note, which never reached its destination, and which was afterwards found defaced by the weather: —

“MY DEAR MR WILLIAMS, — The Lord has seen fit to call home another of our little company. Our dear departed brother left the boat on Tuesday afternoon (Sept. 2), and has not since returned. Doubtless he is in the presence of his Redeemer, whom he served faithfully. Yet a little while, and though .... the Almighty to sing the praises .... throne. I neither hunger nor thirst, though five days without food. — Your affectionate brother in ....

“ALLEN F. GARDINER.”

Meanwhile, it will be asked, what steps were taken elsewhere for the relief of the famished exiles? As early as January, the Secretary of the Society had commenced his inquiries for a vessel to convey additional stores to the Mission; but it was uniformly answered, that no vessel would imperil her insurance for so small a freight; and it was not till the 6th of June that a vessel, advertised for April 21, actually set sail, carrying six months’ supplies by way of the Falkland Islands. Nor was any consternation created by the delay; for, naturally enough, the office-bearers hoped that fish and game might be procured as abundantly as Captain Gardiner seemed to expect; and then there was the hope that the Captain might have established a communication with his friends at Montevideo or East Falkland. However, when October arrived, and the expedition had been gone for more than a year without any tidings returning, the worst forebodings began to be felt, and an application was made to the Admiralty to assist the Society in the effort to reach its agents. H.M.S. Dido was then sailing for the Pacific, and instructions were instantly forwarded to her commander, Captain Morshead, to touch, if possible, at Picton Island, and inquire after the missionaries.

Simultaneously with this movement in England, Samuel Lafone, Esq., of Montevideo, had commissioned a fast- sailing American pifot-boat to proceed to Picton Island, and render any assistance which the mission party might require. After a run of four weeks, Captain Smyley reached Banner Cove on the 21st of October; but finding it painted on the rocks, “Gone to Spaniard Harbour,” he proceeded thither and arrived on the following day. He soon found a boat on the beach, and inside of it lay one person dead. There was a large scar on his head, and another on his neck, and a mattrass was thrown over him. The name “Pearce” was found on his frock, and there can be little doubt that he was the last survivor of the party. The Indians, whose naked footprints were observed on the strand, had no doubt found him still alive and had murdered him; and books, papers, medicine, — everything which was of no value to the savages, — were found scattered on the deck or strewn along the beach. On the shore was found a body completely washed to pieces, which must have been that of Mr Williams, as his three companions had been already buried. Captain Smyley had barely time to bury it, when a violent gale arose, and drove him from his anchorage and out to sea. His little vessel being laden with the crew of a castaway Danish barque, Captain Smyley could prosecute the search no farther, but was forced to return to Montevideo. The report of this humane and right -hearted man concludes with the following testimony: —

“I have never found in my life such Christian fortitude, such patience, and bearings in my life as in these poor unfortunate men. They have never murmured even. They seemed resigned. And Mr Williams says, even in his worst distress, he would not swap his situation for, or with, any man in life. He is happy beyond expression.

“They speak in their Journals of going to the Falklands, but they found their boats not fit, and in fact they waited until all their provisions were gone, and they were taken with the scurvy so bad, that it was impossible for them to go. They had no rest; they were drove from place to place by the Indians, always in dread and fear. Add to these, the stormy, dreary, long nights, with almost perpetual ice and snow; and cooped up in a small boat, so laden that there was scarce room to move, without food, and with that terrible disease the scurvy; and you can judge their situation partly” Unapprised of Captain Smyley’s discovery, Captain Morshead in the Dido reached these dangerous seas about the middle of January 1852, and prosecuted the search with the skill and energy of a British sailor, and with the solicitude of a Christian friend. He reached Spaniard Harbour on the evening of January 21, and immediately sent Lieutenant Pigott and Mr Roberts on shore. They found the bodies of Captain Gardiner and Mr Maidment, and returned to the ship with a variety of books and papers. Next morning, amidst threatening weather, Captain Morshead landed. Mr Maidment’s body lay in the cavern where he had so often spent the night, and in which the stores rescued from the Pioneer were kept. Outside on the rocks was painted, by way of direction to any visitor, a hand, and “under it, “PSALM lxii. 5-8.” Captain Gardiner’s body was lying beside the wreck of the Pioneer. It seemed that he had left his berth, but being too weak to climb into it again, he had died at the side of the boat. The remains were collected and buried; the funeral service was read; an inscription was placed on the rocks; three volleys of musketry were fired; the ship’s colours were struck half-mast high; and having fulfilled her mournful commission, the Dido went on her way.