As soon as Mrs. Preston had quieted the baby to sleep, she returned, and Jerry resumed his story.

“We had got almost to the island, when I stopped,” he continued. “We found it was a pretty mean-looking place. It was rocky and barren, and there were but few trees, and not much of anything that was green. It was about two miles long, and half a mile wide. We landed without much trouble, and pulled our boat into a safe place on the beach, and then scattered about to see what we could find. We were glad enough to stand on solid ground once more, I can tell you, even if it was a desolate island. We had been cramped up in the boat so long that we had almost lost the use of our legs; but we contrived to get along, after a fashion. We divided into three parties, and explored the island thoroughly. But we didn’t find much to reward us. The only living things we saw were a few sea-birds, which had their nests in the rocks on the south side. We did not find anything fit to eat, except some muscles, and a kind of crab, and the eggs of the birds. The mate had pulled up some roots, that he thought we could eat rather than starve, but they didn’t have a very inviting taste, and none of us knew but they were poisonous. We didn’t find any fresh water on the island.

“After we had all come together again, we talked over matters, and decided to camp on the island awhile, and watch for a sail. We were afraid we were off the common track of vessels. But this seemed to be the best thing we could do. We were nearly out of water, and our bread was about all used up, and we certainly could not hold out but a few days longer if we pushed out to sea. But on the island, with our crabs and muscles and eggs, we should not need much water, and could probably catch what we needed when it rained.

“So that very afternoon we set about building a hut, for shelter. Luckily, we had a couple of axes, and we cut down a lot of bushes and trees, and before night we had quite a comfortable place to sleep in. It was a great treat to stretch ourselves out on the leaves and go to sleep. But first we kindled a fire, and cooked some beef and rice, and then if we didn’t eat, no matter.”

“How did you get your fire,—by rubbing two sticks together, as they say the savages do?” inquired Mrs. Preston.

“No; we very fortunately had some friction matches,” replied Jerry. “One of our men was a great smoker, and about the last thing he did before we abandoned the brig, was to get all of his tobacco, and his pipe, and a bunch of friction matches, and stow them away in his pocket. That was all he saved from the wreck, and it was lucky for us that he saved so much, for none of the rest of us thought of matches. Well, as I was going to say, we had a grand night’s rest. The next day it rained, and about all we did was to catch a little water. We caught a few crabs and roasted them, and they tasted very well. We tried the muscles, too, but nobody seemed to think much of them.

“The next day we rigged a piece of sail to the end of a long pole, and set it up on the highest point of land, as a signal to vessels passing. We collected a lot of bushes, and leaves, too, so that we could make a bonfire in case we saw a sail, for we thought a smoke might be noticed, when our signal wouldn’t be. We treated ourselves to a few roasted eggs that day; but we found it wasn’t very easy or safe work getting them. Most of the nests were built among steep rocks, where it was almost impossible to get at them, without ladders and ropes, and the birds were so savage that it wasn’t safe to go near them without a club. They didn’t seem to be at all afraid of us, and wouldn’t stir from their nests when we went right up to them. I suppose they never saw any men on their island before, and didn’t know what they were. I thought I would just smooth down the feathers on the neck of one real handsome bird that I found near the bottom of the cliff, but she gave me such a poke with her beak that I almost wonder it didn’t break my arm. But she got paid for her impudence; one of the men brought a club and knocked her on the head, and we got three or four eggs from her nest, larger than ducks’ eggs.”

“Did you eat the bird, too?” inquired Harriet.

“No,” replied Jerry; “that kind of bird is a little too strong even for a sailor’s stomach. But I shan’t get through to-night, if I stop to tell you about all these little things. We kept a lookout for sails day after day, but didn’t see any. Every pleasant day we pushed our boat into the water, to prevent her drying up, and to have her ready for service at a moment’s notice; and every night we hauled her ashore, for fear of a sudden storm. Things went on in this way for about six weeks, when, one morning, we saw very distinctly a large vessel sailing south, several miles to the east of us. We lighted our bonfire, and in five minutes all hands were in the boat, pulling for dear life toward the vessel. Nobody said a word, but the men kept looking over their shoulders toward the vessel, as if they were afraid they should lose sight of it. We had our mast up, and a bit of sail-cloth flying at the top as a signal. We pulled away with all our might for fifteen or twenty minutes, I should think, till at last we got so near that we could see the vessel was a large ship. She had all sails set, but was going rather moderately, for the wind was light. We were still some distance in front of her, and were steering so as to head her off. We began to feel pretty lively now, and were putting in harder than ever, when all at once a fellow, who went by the name of Dick, pulled off his hat, and swung it over his head with one hand, while he kept his oar going with the other, and sung out,—

“‘Hurrah, boys! we’re safe! They see us, and have run up their flag as a signal to us!’

“None of the rest of us could see the flag, but as Dick was allowed to have the sharpest eyes in the crowd, we took his word for it; and, sure enough, it wasn’t but a few minutes before the ship changed her tack, and was sailing right toward us. If we didn’t cheer and laugh and swing our hats then, it’s no matter. I suppose we acted like a parcel of fools, but we couldn’t help it.

“Well, after we got over our excitement a little, we pulled away toward the ship, and pretty soon we were alongside of her. We found it was the ship May Queen, from New York for the Sandwich Islands. The officers and crew treated us first-rate. They gave us clothes, and plenty to eat, and told us we might stay on board till we got a chance to go home. They said they saw the smoke on our island, and that put them on the lookout. With the glass, the captain saw our signal on the hill, and pretty soon he discovered our boat pulling toward them. They didn’t know whether the rest of our crew had been picked up or not. They didn’t remember hearing anything about it.

“So we had got to go round Cape Horn twice more. That wasn’t very pleasant, but it was better than staying any longer on our little island. The captain promised to put us on board the first craft we spoke, bound home; but there was no knowing when we should meet anything. We had a rather pleasanter passage to the Cape in the ship than we did in the Susan. It wasn’t so stormy, and the weather was warmer, for it was the beginning of summer. We saw lots of floating ice, though, and we passed very near one immense iceberg that was bound north. The first vessel bound home that we saw was off Cape Horn, but the weather was so rough that we didn’t get a chance to speak her. That was quite a disappointment to us; but we had to get used to disappointments; for about a week after this, we saw another craft, and spoke her; but she was an English ship, bound to Liverpool, and as her captain didn’t seem at all anxious to take us with him, our captain concluded to keep us a spell longer.

“It was nearly a month before we spoke another vessel, and we were then pretty well up in the Pacific; in fact, almost up to the latitude of Valparaiso, though we were far to the westward of the coast. This time we spoke the barque Bride, bound from Honolulu to New York. The captain of the Bride said he’d take us, so the other captain had a boat launched, and sent us to the barque. We soon found that our berth on board the Bride wasn’t quite so pleasant as it was in the May Queen. The officers didn’t like to refuse to take us, I suppose, but I guess they thought we were more plague than profit. We did our share of the work, though, to pay for our grub, and were on good terms with the crew. And, after all, we had a pretty good time on the voyage home. We made a fine run round the Horn, and up the coast of South America, until we got to the equatorial doldrums. Do you know where that is, Emily?”

“No; I don’t think that’s on our map,” replied Emily.

“Well, it’s a narrow belt that stretches right across the Atlantic, from America to Africa, where it rains nearly all the time, and is almost always calm. It shifts about a little with the seasons, but is generally north of the equator, say from four to ten or twelve degrees. It varies in width, too. When we got caught in it, on our way home, it must have been seven or eight degrees wide. We were twelve days crossing it. It was cloudy every day, and such heavy, black clouds, too,—why, our thunder-storms in summer are nothing to be compared to them. We had a little deluge every day, with thunder and lightning, and sometimes a sudden squall, that would last an hour, and then all would be calm again. The air was so hot and suffocating that most of the men were about half sick, and some of our provisions were spoilt, too; but at last we got out of the doldrums, into the trade-winds, and though we had one or two gales after that, they were nothing to those tedious calms. We arrived at New York in good order, and I came right on to Boston the same day, with a free pass that the captain got for me. Several others of the Susan’s crew came with me. We called on the owners the next morning, and they were quite astonished to see us. They supposed we were dead, long ago. They asked each of us where we belonged, and gave us money enough to pay our fares.”

“And was that all?” inquired Mrs. Preston, with surprise.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Jerry; “and that was more than they were bound to do. Our wages were paid for the outward voyage, and as the vessel was wrecked on the homeward passage, we couldn’t claim anything more.”

“That seems hard,” continued Mrs. Preston. “They might have paid your wages up to the time the vessel was lost, and not felt it much, either, I dare say. I suppose they were insured.”

“That isn’t the custom,” replied Jerry; “if the vessel is wrecked, the sailor loses his wages. I thought I was lucky to get enough to pay my fare home. I called at Uncle Henry’s store, in Boston, the same forenoon, and he made me go home to dinner with him, all dirty as I was. I felt cheap enough; but aunt and the children were glad to see me, and treated me first-rate. I started for home by the steamboat, that afternoon, and the cars and stage brought me as far as the Cross-Roads. Nobody from this way was over there, so I concluded I had got to walk over; but soon after the doctor came along and picked me up,—and that is the end of my story.”

“And now,” said Mrs. Preston, “I hope you have had enough of going to sea, and will settle down on the farm, and be a sober and steady young man.”

“That’s just what I mean to do,” replied Jerry. “You won’t catch me going to sea again, you may depend upon that. It’s a regular dog’s life. If father’s willing, I’ll stay at home and work on the farm in the summer, and go logging with him in the winter. Or, if I can’t do that, I’ll learn a trade of some sort or other. Anyhow, I mean to do something to earn an honest living.”

Mrs. Preston said she was very glad he had come home with that resolution; and, after a few words of encouragement and advice,—the hour for retiring having arrived,—the family separated, and Jerry found his way to the well-remembered little bedroom, which he had always called his own, and which he found just as he left it, fifteen months before, with the same patchwork quilt of many colors, the same green-paper curtain at the window,—only a little less green,—the same substantial yellow chair, the same capacious horse-hair trunk in the corner, and the same little square of looking-glass on the wall, inclosed in a brown-paper frame.