In which the Reader will discover, as the Little People did, how a Life was saved, and a Life was Begun.

The Captain and his little friends had barely reached the cottage when the storm came down in earnest. The tall trees bowed their heads beneath the heavy blasts of wind, which shook them to their very roots, and the music of the rustling and sighing leaves was heard until the sounds were drowned by the fierce, dashing rain.

“Now this is a regular blow-hard, and no mistake,” exclaimed the Captain, as the party stood in the doorway watching the bending trees and the clouds that rushed so wildly overhead. “Good thing we picked up our anchor when we did, or just as like as not we should have had to lie there all night.”

“Why, we couldn’t have stayed there in such a storm, could we, Captain Hardy?” said Fred, inquiringly.

“To be sure we could,” replied the Captain, “and snug enough too. Yes, indeed, the little Alice would have ridden out the gale handsomely. Then we might have stowed ourselves away in the cabin as nice as could be, and have been just as dry as we are here.”

“And gone without supper,” put in William, with a practical eye to the creature comforts.

“Easy there, my lad,” answered the Captain. “Do you think you catch an ancient mariner on the water without ’a shot in his locker’?”

“Wouldn’t it have been jolly, eating supper in the cabin,” exclaimed William; “and then, Captain Hardy, would you have gone on with the story?”

“To be sure I would,” answered the Captain.

“Then I’m sorry we didn’t stay there,” replied William.

“Good,” said the Captain. “But what says little Alice?”

“I’d rather hear the story where we are,” was the reply. And as the lightning flashed and the thunder rattled more and more, the little girl crept closer to the old man’s side.

“Then I’m glad we came away,” replied the captain; “and we’ll go right on too, for I see you don’t like listening to the storm.”

“O, I’m dreadfully afraid!” said Alice.

“Go on, go on! Captain Hardy,” exclaimed both the boys together.

“But where was I when we left off to run away, in such a lubberly manner, from the storm?” inquired the Captain. “Let me see,” and he put his finger to his nose, looking thoughtful.

“You were just beginning to cry,” put in William.

“To be sure I was, that’s it; and so would you cry, too, my boy, if you had an empty stomach under your belt, and nothing but a jack-knife in it,” answered the Captain.

“That I would,” exclaimed William, “I should have cried my eyes out. But, Captain Hardy, if you’ll excuse me, was the jack-knife in the empty stomach or in the belt?”

“Ah, you little rogue! I’ll not mind you any more,” said the Captain, laughing; “what would Fred have done?”

“I think I should have broke my heart,” said Fred, promptly.

“That’s not so easy done as crying,” exclaimed the Captain. “But what says little Alice; what would she have done?”

“I don’t know,” replied Alice, gently; “but I think I should have gone and tried to get the poor boy to speak to me, and then I would have tried to comfort him.”

“That’s it, my charming little girl; that’s just exactly what I did. But it wasn’t so easy either, I can tell you; for the boy was still as dull as ever. I tried to rouse him in every way I could think of; but he would not arouse. I spoke to him, I called to him, I shouted to him; but he would not answer me a single word.”

“What was his name, Captain Hardy? Won’t you tell us his name?” asked Fred.

“Ah! that I should have done before; but I forgot it. His name was Richard Dean. The sailors always called him ‘the Dean.’ He was a bright, lively boy, and everybody liked him. To see him in such a state made my very heart ache. But he was growing warm under his great load of eider-down, and that I was glad to see; and at last he showed some feeble signs of consciousness. His eyes opened wide, his lips moved. I thought he was saying something, though I could not understand for some time what it was. Then I could make out, after a while, that he was murmuring, ‘Mother, mother!’ Then he looked at me, wildly like, and then he turned his head away, and then he turned it back and looked at me again. ‘Hardy,’ said he, in a very low voice, ‘is that you?’ ‘Yes,’ I said; ’and I’m glad you know me,’ which you may be very sure I was.

“But the poor fellow’s mind soon wandered away from me again; and I could see that it was disturbed by visions of something dreadful. ‘There! there!’ he cried, ’it’s tumbling on me! the ice! the ice! it’s tumbling on me!’ and he tried to spring up from where he lay. ’There’s nothing there at all, Dean,’ said I, as I pressed him down. ’Come, look up; don’t you see me?’ He was quiet in an instant; and then, looking up into my face, he said, ’Yes, it’s Hardy, I know; but what has happened to us, anything?’ Without pausing to give me time to answer, he closed his eyes and went on, ’O, I’ve had an awful dream! I thought an iceberg was falling on the ship. I saw it coming, and sprang away! As it fell, the ship went down, and I went down with it, down, down, down; then I came up, clinging to some pieces of the wreck. Another man was with me; we were drifted with the waves to the land. I kept above the water until I saw somebody running towards me. When he had nearly reached me, I drowned. O, it was an awful dream! Did you come to call me, Hardy?’ and he opened wide his eyes. ’Is it four bells? Did you come to call me?’ ’No, no, I haven’t come to call you, it isn’t four bells yet,’ I answered, scarcely knowing what I said; ’sleep on, Dean.’ ’I’m glad you didn’t come to call me, Hardy. I want to sleep. The dream haunts me. I dreamed that I was fast to something that hurt me, when I tried to get away. It was an awful dream, awful, awful, awful!’ and his voice died away into the faintest whisper, and then it ceased entirely. ‘Sleep, sleep on, poor Dean!’ murmured I; and I prayed with all my heart that his reason might not be gone.

“‘What could I do?’ ‘What should I do?’ were the questions which soon crossed my mind respecting the Dean. There was, however, one very obvious answer, ’Let him alone’; so I rose up from his side, and saw, as I did so, that he was now sleeping soundly, a genuine, quiet sleep. He had become quite warm; and, after some minutes’ watching, it appeared to me very likely that he would, after a while, wake up all right, a conclusion which made me very happy; that is, as happy as one so situated could be.

After leaving the Dean I once more considered my condition. It seemed to me that I had grown many years older in these few hours, and I commenced reasoning with myself. Instead of sitting down on the rock, and beginning to cry, as I had done before, I sat down to reflect. And this is the way I reflected:

“‘1st,’ I said, ‘while there is life there is hope’; and,

“’2d. So long as the land remains unexplored, I have a right to conclude that it is inhabited’; and,

“’3d. Being inhabited, there is a good chance of our being saved; for even the worst savages cannot refuse two such helpless creatures food and clothing.’

Having thus reflected, I arrived at these conclusions respecting what I should do; namely,

“’1st. I will go at once in search of these inhabitants, and when I find them, I will beg them to come and help me with a sick companion.’

“’2d. On my way I will make my dinner off raw eggs, of which there are so many hereabout, for I am so frightfully hungry that I can no longer resist the repulsive food.’

“’3d. I will also hunt on my way for some water, as I am so thirsty that I scarcely know what to do.’

“‘4th. For the rest I will trust to Providence.’

“Having thus resolved, I immediately set out, and in a very few minutes I had eaten a whole dozen raw eggs, and that, too, without any disgust at all. Then, as I walked on a little farther, I discovered that there were a multitude of small streams dashing over the rocks, the water being quite pure and clear, coming from great snow-banks on the hill-tops, which were melting away before the sun.

“Being thus refreshed with meat and drink, it occurred to me to climb up to an elevation, and see what more I could discover. The ice was very thick and closely packed together all along the shore; but beyond where the wreck had happened the sea was quite open, only a few straggling bits of field-ice mixed up with a great many icebergs, indeed, the icebergs were too thick to be counted. I thought I saw a boat turned upside down; but it was so far away that I could not make out distinctly what it was. It was clear enough to me that nobody had been saved from the wreck except the Dean and myself.

“As I looked around, it appeared very evident to me that the land on which I stood was an island.

“After hallooing several times, without any other result than to startle a great number of birds, as I had done before, I set out again, briskly jumping from rock to rock, the birds all the while springing up before me and fluttering away in great flocks. There seemed to be no end to them.

“As I went along, I soon found that I was turning rapidly to the left, and that I was not only on an island, but on a very small one at that. I could not have been more than two hours in going all the way around it, although I had to clamber most of the way over very stony places, stopping frequently to shout at the top of my voice, with the hope of being heard by some human beings; but not a soul was there to answer me, nor could I discover the least sign of anybody ever having been there.

“This failure greatly discouraged me, but still I was not so much cast down as you might think. Perhaps it was because I had eaten so many eggs, and was no longer hungry; for, let me tell you, when one’s stomach gets empty, the courage has pretty much all gone out of him.

“Besides this, I had made some discoveries which seemed in some way to forebode good, though I could not exactly say why. I found the birds thicker and thicker as I proceeded. Their nests were in some places so close together that I could hardly walk without treading on their eggs. I also saw several foxes, some of which were white and others were dark gray. As I walked on, they scampered away over the stones ahead of me, and then perched themselves on a tall rock near by, apparently very much astonished to see me. They seemed to look upon me as an intruder, and I thought they would ask, ‘What business have you coming here?’ They had little idea how glad I should have been to be almost anywhere else, on the farm from which I had run away, for instance, and leave them in undisputed possession of their miserable island. They seemed to be very sleek and well-contented foxes; for they were gorging themselves with raw eggs, just as I had been doing, and they were evidently the terror of the birds. I saw one who had managed in some way to capture a duck nearly as large as himself, and was bouncing up the hill to his den, no doubt with the poor thing’s neck in his mouth, and its body across his shoulder.

“Then, too, I discovered, from the east side of the island, where the ice was solid, a great number of seals lying in the sun, as if asleep, on the ice; and when I came around on the west side, where the sea was open, great schools of walruses, with their long tusks and ugly heads, were sporting about in the water as if at play, and an equally large number of the narwhal, with their long horns, were also playing there. Only that they are larger, and have these hideous-looking tusks, walruses are much like seals. The narwhal is a small species of whale, being about twenty feet long, and spotted something like an iron-gray horse. Its great peculiarity is the horn, which grows, like that of a sword-fish, straight out of the nose, and is nearly half as long as the body. Like all the other whales, it must come up to the surface of the water to breathe; and its breathing is done through a hole in the top of the head, like any other whale’s. You know the breathing of a whale is called ‘spouting,’ or ’blowing,’ that is, when he breathes out it is so called, and when he does this he makes the spray fly up into the air.

“This breathing of the largest whales can be seen several miles; that is, I should say, the spray thrown up by their breath. So you see the common expression of the whale-fishers, ‘There she blows!’ is a very good one; for sometimes, when the whale is very large, the spray looks like a small waterspout in the sea.

“Besides the narwhal, which I have told you about, I saw another kind of whale, even smaller still. This is called the white whale, though it isn’t exactly white, but a sort of cream-color. They had no horns, however, like the narwhal; and they skimmed along through the water in great numbers, and very close together, and when they come to the surface they breathe so quickly that the noise they make is like a sharp hiss.

“Considering the numbers of these animals, the seals and walruses and narwhals and white whales, I was not surprised, when I went close down to the beach, to find a great quantity of their bones there, evidently of animals that had died in the sea and been washed ashore. Indeed, as I went along a little farther, and had reached nearly to the place where I had left the Dean, I found the whole carcass of a narwhal lying among the rocks, where it had been thrown by the waves, and very near it I discovered also a dead seal. About these there were several foxes, which went scampering away as soon as they saw me. They had evidently come there to get their dinner; for they had torn a great hole in the side of the dead narwhal, and two of them had begun on the seal. I thought if I could get some of the skins of these pretty foxes, they would be nice warm things to wrap the Dean’s hands and feet in, so I began flinging stones at them as hard as I could; but the cunning beasts dodged every one of them, and, running away up the hillside, chattered in such a lively manner that it seemed as if they were laughing at me, which provoked me so much that I went on vowing to get the better of them in one way or another.

“All this time, you must remember, I had left the poor Dean by himself, and you may be sure I was very anxious to get back to him; but before I tell you anything more about him, I must stop a minute longer to describe more particularly this island on which I had been cast away. You must understand there were no trees on it at all; and, indeed, there were scarcely any signs of vegetation whatever. On the south side, where we landed after the wreck, the hillside was covered for a short distance with thick grass, and above this green slope there were great tall cliffs like the palisades of the Hudson River, which you must all see some time; but all the rest of the way around the island I saw scarcely anything but rough rocks, very sharp and hard to walk over. In some places, however, where the streams of melted snow had spread out in the level places, patches of moss had grown, making a sort of marsh. Here I discovered some flowers in full bloom, and among them were the buttercup and dandelion, just like what we find in the meadows here, only not a quarter so large; but my head was too much filled with more serious thoughts at that time to care about flowers.

“You can hardly imagine anything so dreary as this island was. Indeed, nothing could be worse except the prospect of living on it all alone, without any shelter, or fire, or proper clothing, and without any apparent chance of ever escaping from it.

“I found, however, a sort of apology for a tree growing among the moss beds. I have learned since that it is called a ‘dwarf willow.’ The stem of the tree, if such it might be called, was not larger than my little finger; and its branches, which lay flat on the ground, were in no case more than a foot long.

“Besides these willows, I discovered also, growing about the rocks, a trailing plant, with very small stem, and thick, dry leaves. It had a pretty little purple blossom on it, and was the only thing I saw that looked as if it would burn. I can assure you that I wished hard enough that I had some way of proving whether it would burn or not. However, since I had discovered so many other things on this my first journey around the island, I was not without hope that I should light upon some way of starting a fire. So I named the plant at once ‘the fire plant;’ but I have since been told by a wise doctor that I met down in Boston, that its right name is ‘Andromeda.’ It is a sort of heather, like the Scotch heather that you have all heard about, only it is as much smaller than the Scotch heather as the dwarf willow I told you of is smaller than the tall willow-tree that grows out there in front of the door.

“Although I had not, as I have said, discovered any natives living on the island, yet I came back from my journey feeling less disappointed than I would have thought. No doubt my anxiety to see how the Dean was so occupied my mind that I did not dwell as much upon my own unhappy condition as I otherwise would have done. In truth, I think the Dean must have saved me from despair and death; for, if I had not felt obliged to exert myself in his behalf, I must have sunk under the heavy load of my misfortunes.

“When I came back to the Dean, I found that the poor boy was still sleeping soundly, a sort of dead, heavy sleep. At first, I thought to arouse him; but then, again, since I found he was quite warm, I concluded the best thing was not to disturb him. Some color had come into his face; indeed, there was quite a flush there, and he seemed to be a little feverish. The only thing I now feared was that his reason might have left him; and this thought filled me with a kind of dread of seeing him rouse up, just as every one, when he fears some great calamity, tries to postpone the realization of it as long as possible. So I suffered him to remain sleeping, and satisfied myself with watching his now somewhat heavy breathing for a little while, when, growing chilly (for the sun had by this time gone behind the island, thus leaving us in the shadow of the tall cliffs), I began to move about again. I set to work collecting more of the eider-down, so that, when I should be freed from my anxiety about the Dean, I might roll myself up under this warm covering and get some sleep; for, although my mind was much excited, yet I was growing sleepy, besides being chilly. I also collected a number of eggs, and ate some more of them; and, using several of the shells for cups, I brought some water, setting the cups up carefully in the grass, knowing that when the Dean opened his eyes he must needs be thirsty as well as hungry.

“All this being done, I fell to reflecting again, and, as was most natural, my thoughts first ran upon what I should do to make a fire. I had found or at least I thought I had found something that would burn, as I have said before; but what should I do for the first spark? True, with my jack-knife for a steel, and a flint-stone, of which there were plenty, I could strike a spark without any difficulty; but what was there to strike it into, so that it would catch and make a blaze? I knew that in some countries people make a blaze by rubbing two pieces of dry wood together; but this I could not do, as I had not a particle of wood. In other countries, I knew, they have punk, into which they strike a spark, and the spark will not go out until the punk is all burned up, so that they have only to blow it on some inflammable substance until a blaze comes; but where was I to get the punk from? I had also heard that fire had been made with lenses of glass, which, being held up to the sun, concentrate the rays and make a great heat, sufficient to set wood and like combustible things on fire; but I had no lens. Of course, I have no need to tell you that I had no matches, such as we have now-a-days here.

“Thus the night wore on. I say night, but you must bear in mind, as I told you before, that there was really no night at all, the sun being above the horizon all the time; and the only difference now in the different periods of the day was, that when the sun was in the south it shone upon us, while when it was at the north we were under the shadow of the cliffs. The sun, you must observe, in the Arctic regions, circles around during the summer, only a little way above the horizon, never rising overhead, as it does here, but being always quite low down; and hence it never gives a very strong heat, although the air is sometimes warm enough to be very comfortable.

“I was glad when the shadow of the cliff passed from over me, and the sun was once more in view.

“I now grew quite warm, though my great fatigue did not vanish; but I was so anxious about the Dean that I would not sleep, and kept myself awake by moving about all the time, staying always near the Dean. At length, soon after the sun appeared, the boy began to show some restlessness; and as I approached him, I found that his eyes were wide open. He raised himself a little on one arm, and turned towards me as I came up to him, and looked straight at me, so calmly and intelligently that I saw at once he had come to his senses entirely; and so rejoiced was I, that, without thinking at all about what I was doing, I fell down beside him, and clasped him in my arms, and cried out, ‘O Dean, Dean!’ over and over a great many times. You cannot imagine how glad I was!

“‘Why, Hardy,’ said he, in a very feeble voice, ’where are we? What’s the matter? What has happened to us?’ Seeing that it was useless for me to attempt to evade the question, I told him all the circumstances of the shipwreck, and how I had carried him there, and what I had been doing. I thought at first this would disturb him, but it did not seem to in the least. After I had finished, he simply said: ’I thought it was all a dream. It comes back to me now. I remember a frightful crash, of being in the water on the wreck, of seeing some one approaching me, of being held down first by a drowning man and then by a rope, of trying to free myself, and then I must have swooned, for I remember nothing more. I have now a vague remembrance of some one talking to me about a dream I had, but nothing distinct.’

“‘But,’ said I, ’Dean, don’t talk any more about it just now, it will fatigue you; tell me how you feel.’ ‘No,’ answered he, ’it does not fatigue me, and I want to collect myself. Things are getting clearer to me. My memory returns to me gradually. I see the terrified crew. It was but an instant. I heard the crash. The great body of the ice fell right amidships, right upon the galley. Poor cook! he must have been killed instantly. Some of the crew jumped overboard; I tried to, but got no farther than the bulwarks, and then was in the water; I don’t know how I got there. When I came up there was a man under me, and I was tangled among some rigging, but was lifted up out of the water on some large mass of wreck. The man I told you of tried to get up too; but his feet were caught, and I saw him drowning. I saw another man holding on to the wreck, but a piece of ice struck him, and he must have fallen off immediately.’

“‘Dean, Dean!’ said I, ’do stop! you are feverish; quiet yourself, and we’ll talk of these things by and by’; and the boy fell back quite exhausted. His skin was very hot, and his face flushed. ’O my head, my head!’ exclaimed he; ‘it pains me dreadfully! Am I hurt?’ and he put his hand to the side of his head where he had been struck, and, finding that he was wounded, said: ’I remember it now perfectly. A heavy wave came, and was tossing a piece of timber over me, and I tried to avoid being struck by it. After that I remember nothing. It must have struck me. I’m not much hurt, am I?’

“‘No, Dean,’ I answered, ‘not much hurt, only a little bruised.’

“‘Have you any water, Hardy?’ he asked, ‘I am so thirsty!’

“It was fortunate that I had brought some in the eggshells, and in a moment I had given him a drink. It did me good to see him smile, as I handed him the water, and ask where I got such odd cups from. ’Thanks, thanks!’ said he; ‘I’m better now.’ Then after a moment’s pause he added, ’I want to get up and see where we are. I’m very weak; won’t you help me?’ But I told him that I would not do it now, for the present he must lie quiet. ‘Then raise me up and let me look about.’ So I raised him up, and he took first a look at the strange pile of eider-down that was upon him, and then at the ice-covered sea, but he spoke not a word. Then he lay down, and after a short time said calmly: ’I see it all now. Hard, isn’t it? But we must do the best we can. I feel that I’ll soon be well, and will not be a trouble to you long. Do you know that until this moment I could hardly get it out of my head that I had been dreaming? We must trust in Heaven, Hardy, and do the best we can.’

“Being now fully satisfied as to the complete recovery of the Dean, I gave myself no further concern about watching him; but at once, after he had, in his quiet way, asked me if I was not very tired, I buried myself up in the heap of eider-down close beside him, and was soon as deeply buried in a sound sleep.”

The Captain, evidently thinking that he had gone far enough for one day, now broke off suddenly. The children had listened to the recital more eagerly than on any previous occasion, so much so, indeed, that they had wholly disregarded the storm; and little Alice was so absorbed in learning the fate of the poor shipwrecked Dean, that her fears about the thunder and lightning had been quite forgotten. When the Captain paused, the storm had passed over, the sun had burst through the scattering clouds, and in the last lingering drops his silver rays were melted into gorgeous hues; for

“A rainbow thrown brightly
Across the dark sky
(Soft curving, proud arching
In beauty on high)

Had circled the even,
A bridal ring, given
To wed earth with heaven,
As it smiled ’neath the veil of the glittering rain.”

The little birds had come out of their hiding-places, and were merrily singing,

“Farewell to the rain, the beautiful rain”;

and the party of little folks that had been hidden away in the “Mariner’s Rest,” following their example, were soon gayly hastening across the fresh fields, the old man carrying laughing Alice in his arms, to keep her tender feet from the wet grass.