"Hang the wig and boots, too," cried Bangs, "there goes my Sunday
coat. Captain, who has sunk the ship?"
Here his eyes met mine, and a few words served to explain our
situation; the only question now was, how to get ashore, as nothing
could be done until daybreak. My determination was soon made. I put my
friends into one of the boats, which were lying alongside of the
schooner, gave their wet chests into the care of their black servants,
and let them find a lodging as well as they could. Then the wounded,
and afterwards the rest of the crew were put on board a couple of
merchant vessels lying near us, and as their captains were obliging
fellows, I easily persuaded them to take the schooner between them, at
ebb-tide, and raise it with the flood. When it was pumped out, and
afloat again, I took it into port, where it received a thorough
overhauling. As there remained nothing more to be done, I put on dry
clothes, and towards evening went ashore. Thus ended my first cruise.
A Winter in the Frozen Ocean.
One stormy winter's evening, in the year 1579, Gerhard de Ver was
sitting in the warm and cheerful parlor of his plain but comfortable
dwelling, in the city of Amsterdam. He was a pleasant, good-natured
man, but evidently weak, and suffering from hardships recently
undergone. As he sat before the fire, in his easy chair, his eye
rested, with evident satisfaction, on a group of young sailors, who
were accustomed to visit him, both to show the sympathy they felt for
the sufferings he had undergone in the service of his native land, and
to gain information from his rich store of experience. After a lively
conversation, in which they had now and then, to their no little joy,
succeeded in bringing a smile to the care-worn face of their patron,
they began to converse together in a low tone of voice, and to show by
their manner that they were about to prefer a very unusual request.
"Father Gerhard," at last began one of the party, "you are well aware
that nothing would give us greater pleasure than the restoration of
your health, and that with you we are impatiently waiting for the
moment when you shall be able to leave your room again, but we know
well enough that when that moment arrives, the irresistible desire of
being useful to your native land, will drive you to distant parts of
the earth, and separate us for a long time again; do not, therefore,
consider it indiscreet if we now remind you of a promise form
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