ovidence watched over us, nothing went wrong, and everything prospered
far more than we could have expected. My wife and daughters turned out
capital sailors, and soon learned to take their turn at the helm, to
relieve my boys and our two men. Both of these were characters in their
way. Old Bob Hunt had sailed with me for many years in the coasting
trade, and a trusty hand he was, but he knew no more of the broad seas
than the child unborn, or of geography either; and when I told him that
I was thinking of going out to New Holland, he asked if I expected to
make the place in a week or so, as he supposed it wasn't very far from
Old Holland, where the people speak Dutch. And when I told him that the
natives were as black as his shoe, and spoke a language no Christian man
could understand, he would scarcely believe me.

"Never mind," he said, after a moment's thought, "no one shall say I
deserted you because you were bound on a long voyage; if we were to be a
year about getting there I would go with you. I shall leave behind no
more kith nor kin than you do, so that's settled."

Old Bob was a capital seaman, but what is strange, he never touched
liquor, nor smoked, nor over chewed tobacco. He ate, too, as little as
any man I ever saw at his meals; and as for sleeping, it was difficult
to find him with his eyes shut. The least noise would awake him, and if
the breeze freshened up a bit he was sure to be on deck in a moment to
see that all was right. He was a most invaluable hand, and worth any
two other men I ever had. In spite of his age Bob was active as a
monkey, and short and thin, and so occupied wonderfully little space in
the small craft; which was convenient, as also for another reason, for
his companion, Dick Nailor, was one of the biggest men I ever met, a
perfect giant, but gentle as a lamb, and with an excellent temper. He
used to say that he and Bob together only took up their fair amount of
room. If Bob was never seen asleep Dick was seldom found broad awake,
but he was keeping a bright look-out notwithstanding, and when roused up
he was active enough, and strong as a lion. The children were very fond
of him. He could take them all up in his arms and dance a hornpipe with
them hanging about him, as lightly as a young lady in satin shoes.

My eldest boy, Peter, named after me, was one of the steadiest fellows I
ever met. At eighteen he was second officer of a ship, and might have
been entrusted w