es
of equipment were collected and stored at the highest point of the
island.

When I reached the Kilauea I was served with a good meal, of which I
ate sparingly; and, having deposited the safe in a near corner of the
cabin, "turned in" on a near berth, boots and all, sleeping through
all the turmoil made when the others came off. And so we sailed away
at dusk to the eastward, turning our backs on the desolate home where
we had suffered for sixty-seven days.

I have learned that a fast-sailing schooner, Kona, was dispatched on
Saturday evening under charter by the American Minister, eight hours
after the arrival of Halford. Our consul and vice-consul, with other
friends, however, prevailed upon the United States Minister, Mr.
Pierce, to accept the offer of the Kilauea by the King; urging as a
reason that there was no certainty of our being in a condition to
await the slow progress of a sailing-vessel; that there might be
sickness and even starvation in our party. The Kilauea was hastily
coaled and sailed on Monday.

(_Note._ The Kona was sighted in the offing as we were leaving Ocean
Island, and running down to her Captain Long ordered her back to
Honolulu.)

On the way to Honolulu, while sitting in the pilot house of the
Kilauea, I overheard a conversation on deck between two of the
Saginaw's men concerning the superstition connected with sailing on
Friday. "What better proof," said one of them, "would you have of its
being an unlucky day than in the case of the Saginaw? She sailed from
the Midway Islands on a Friday, and two days afterward she lay a total
wreck among the breakers of Ocean Island. The gig that went for help
also started on Friday, and what was the result? Four out of the five
brave boys who manned her came to an untimely end--how Halford escaped
is a mystery to me; but I guess he'll think twice before venturing on
another voyage on that day of the week." I said to myself that I would
think twice, too, unless I was starting under orders.

VII

THE FATE OF THE GIG

_Honolulu, January 28, 1871._ Perhaps some reader may deem the story
of the Saginaw's last cruise complete. I cannot, however, consider it
so while lacking the sorrowful story of our comrades' voyage in the
gig, with its fatal ending as told by Halford, the sole survivor. Nor
would it be less than ingratitude to pass unnoticed the fact of our
hearty reception when we arrived here on the fourteenth, well fed and
well clothed