never passed Cape Horn in such fine
weather. Whales, and porpoises in countless numbers, were playing round
us, and if we had had harpoons and gear on board we might have captured
many of the former and filled up our ship with oil. We were not
destined, however, to enjoy the fine weather long. Another gale came on
and nearly drove us on the western coast of Patagonia, carrying away our
bulwarks, and doing much other damage. When within about five or six
miles of the coast the wind shifted, and we once more stood off the
land. We sighted the far-famed island of Juan Fernandez, the scene of
Robinson Crusoe's adventures, or rather those of the real Alexander
Selkirk. The ship was hove-to when we were about two miles off shore,
and the pinnace and jolly-boat were sent to obtain wood and water. The
passengers taking the opportunity of going also, I slipped into the boat
with Mr McTavish, without being perceived by the captain. The second
mate, who had charge of the boat, did not inquire whether I had leave.
I was not aware till the moment before that the boat was going.

There was no time for consideration; but the hope seized me that I might
manage to make my escape and remain on the island. If Robinson Crusoe
lived there, so might I. A solitary life would be infinitely better, I
thought, than the existence I was doomed to live on board. I said
nothing to Mr McTavish, for fear he should try to prevent me. We found
when approaching the shore that a heavy sea was breaking over it, and
that it would be impossible to land. We soon, however, discovered that
we had entered the wrong bay, and pulling out again, we got into
another, where the landing was less difficult, though not free from
danger. While some of the party remained on the beach to fill the
water-casks and to draw a seine which had been brought to catch fish, I
accompanied Mr McTavish and the other gentlemen into the interior. The
island appeared to be one vast rock split into various portions. We
pushed on up a deep valley. At the bottom ran a stream of fine water,
from which the water-casks were filled. The valley, scarcely a hundred
yards wide at the entrance, gradually widened. We climbed up the wild
rocks, ascending higher and higher, startling a number of goats, which
scrambled off leaping from crag to crag; some of them fine-built old
fellows with long beards, who looked as if they must have been well
acquainted with Robinson Crusoe himself.