a guard on the cook-room, to prevent the men
from eating it raw, and consequently killing themselves with what was
designed for their relief. But, particularly, I desired the mate to see
what condition the poor passengers were in, and the surgeon gave him a
pitcher of the same broth which he had prepared for the men. And being
curious to see this scene of misery myself, I took the Captain (as we
called the mate of the ship) in our own boat, and sailed after them.

Here was a sad sight indeed! scarce were the victuals half boiled in the
pot; but they were ready to break open the cook-room door. To stay their
stomachs the mate gave them biscuits, which were dipped in and softened
them with the liquor of the meat, which they call _bruise_; telling
them, it was for their own safety, that he was obliged to give them but
a little at a time; and so feeding them gradually, their bellies were
comfortable filled, and the men did very well again. But when they came
to the poor gentlewoman in the cabin, who for several days had continued
without food, giving what she had to her son, they found her as it were
in the arms of death. She was sitting upon the floor of the deck, with
her back up against the sides, between two chairs, which were lashed
fast, and her head shrunk, between her shoulders, like a senseless
corpse. Nothing was wanting in my mate to revive and encourage her;
opening her lips, and putting some broth into her mouth with a spoon.
But not having strength to speak, she lifted up her head with much
difficulty, intimating that it was now too late! at the same time
pointing to the youth her son, as though she desired him to do what he
could to save the lad; and in a little time after she died.

The youth, indeed, was not so far gone; yet lay stretched out on a cabin
bed, like one that had scarce any life. In his mouth was a piece of an
old glove, the rest of which he had ate up. At first he vomited what the
mate had given him; but at length began sensibly to revive, though in
the greatest concern for the death of his tender mother.

As to the poor maid, she lay by her mistress, like one in the last pangs
of death: her limbs were distorted, one of her hands were clasped round
the frame of a chair, which she grasped so hard, that it was with some
difficulty we separated her from it; her other arm lay over her head,
and her feet lay both together, set fast against the frame of the cabin
table; not only being, starved wit