ave a right to say I am happy--your
kicks and cuffs only hurt for a time, and I manage soon to forget them.
If it's any pleasure to you to give them, all I can say is, that it's a
very rum sort of pleasure; and now you have got my opinion about the
matter."

"That's the spirit I like to see," exclaimed old Tom, slapping me on the
back soon afterwards, "You'll soon put a stop to that sort of thing." I
found he was right; and, though I had plenty of dirty work to do, still,
after that, not one of the men ever lifted his hand against me. The
captain, however, was not to be so easily conquered, and so I took good
care to stand clear of him whenever I could.

The rough weather continued till we had made Cape Horn, which rose dark
and frowning out of the wild heaving ocean. We were some time doubling
it, and were several days in sight of Terra del Fuego, but we did not
see anything like a burning mountain--indeed, no volcanoes exist at that
end of the Andes.

The weather moderated soon after we were round the Horn, but in a short
time another gale sprung up, during which our bulwarks were battered in,
one of our boats carried away, our bowsprit sprung, and the
fore-topsail, the only canvas we had set, blown to ribbons. Besides
this, we received other damages, which contributed still further to sour
our captain's temper. We were at one time so near the ironbound coast
that there seemed every probability that we should finish off by being
dashed to pieces on the rocks. Happily, the wind moderated, and a fine
breeze springing up, we ran on merrily into the Pacific.

Shortly after, we made the island of Juan Fernandez, and, as I saw its
wood-covered heights rising out of the blue ocean, I could not help
longing to go on shore and visit the scenes I had read about in Robinson
Crusoe. I told old Tom about my wish. Something more like a smile than
I had ever yet seen, rose on his countenance. "I doubt, Jack, that you
would find any traces of the hero you are so fond of," he observed; "I
believe once upon a time an Englishman did live there, left by one of
the ships of Commodore Anson's squadron, but that was long ago, and the
Spaniards have turned it into a prison, something like our Norfolk
Island."

CHAPTER FIVE.

OLD TOM'S STORY.

We, however, did call off another island in the neighbourhood, called
Massafuera, to obtain a supply of wood and water. The ship was hove-to,
and the pinnace and jolly-boat were s