I was treated kindly in them.

But a change took place by the hand of Providence. One day, after we
had just laid in our yearly provision of sea-birds, I was busy arranging
the skins of the old birds, on the flat rock, for my annual garment,
which was joined together something like a sack, with holes for the head
and arms to pass through; when, as I looked to seaward, I saw a large
white object on the water.

"Look, master," said I, pointing towards it.

"A ship, a ship!" cried my companion.

"Oh," thought I, "that is a ship; I recollect that he said they came
here in a ship." I kept my eyes on her, and she rounded to.

"Is she alive?" inquired I.

"You're a fool," said the man; "come and help me to pile up this wood,
that we may make a signal to her. Go and fetch some water and throw on
it, that there may be plenty of smoke. Thank God, I may leave this
cursed hole at last!"

I hardly understood him, but I went for the water and brought it in the
mess kid.

"I want more wood yet," said he. "Her head is this way, and she will
come nearer."

"Then she is alive," said I.

"Away, fool!" said he, giving me a cuff on the head; "get some more
water and throw on the wood."

He then went into the cabin to strike a light, which he obtained by a
piece of iron and flint, with some fine dry moss for tinder. While he
was so employed, my eyes were fixed on the vessel, wondering what it
could be. It moved through the water, turned this way and that. "It
must be alive," thought I; "is it a fish or a bird?" As I watched the
vessel, the sun was going down, and there was not more than an hour's
daylight. The wind was very light and variable, which accounted for the
vessel so often altering her course. My companion came out with his
hands full of smoking tinder, and putting it under the wood, was busy
blowing it into a flame. The wood was soon set fire to, and the smoke
ascended several feet into the air.

"They'll see that," said he.

"What then, it has eyes? It must be alive. Does it mind the wind?"
inquired I, having no answer to my first remark, "for look there, the
little clouds are coming up fast," and I pointed to the horizon, where
some small clouds were rising up, and which were, as I knew from
experience and constantly watching the sky, a sign of a short but
violent gale, or tornado, of which we usually had one, if not two, at
this season of the year.

"Yes; confound it," replied my companion, grin