el had been a Russian brig, bound from Asitka, in Russian
America, to Acapulco, in Mexico, for a supply of grain, tallow, and
spirits; that it had been destroyed by fire during the night, scarcely
allowing time for the men to launch the long-boat. No provisions could
be procured; the boxes and kegs that had been taken in the hurry were of
no use; that they had been rowing forty-eight hours without food or
water, and were ignorant of their distance from the shore; and, finally,
that they had perceived my skiff a good half-hour before I awoke;
thought it at first empty, but saw me rising, and called to me, in the
hope that I would guide them to a landing-place. In return I explained
to him my adventure as well, as I could, and made him promises of plenty
for the next day; but I might have talked for ever to no purpose; the
poor fellow, overpowered with fatigue, and now feeling secure, had sunk
into a deep sleep.

At the break of day we made the land, at the entrance of a small river
and close to some fine old ruins. It was the very spot where I had
intended to go with the Padre. There were a few wild horses rambling in
the neighbourhood; I cleaned my gun, loaded it again, and killed one;
but not before the tired and hungry crew, stretched on the strand,
proved by their nasal concerts that for the present their greatest
necessity was repose after their fatigues. There were twenty of them
including the captain.

I had led too much of an Indian life, not to know bow to bear fatigue,
and to be rapid in execution. The sun was not more than three hours
high, when I had already cooked the best part of the horse. All the
unfortunates were still asleep, and I found it was no easy matter to
awake them. At last, I hit upon an expedient which did not fail; I
stuck the ramrod of my gun into a smoking piece of meat, and held it so
that the fumes should rise under their very noses. No fairy wand was
ever more effective; in less than two minutes they were all chewing and
swallowing their breakfast, with an energy that had anything but sleep
in it. It is no easy matter to satisfy twenty hungry Russians; but
still there is an end to every thing. One of them knelt before me, and
kissed my feet. Poor fellow! he thought that I had done a great deal
for him and his companions, forgetting that perhaps I owed my own life
to them.

The men were tired: but when they heard that they could reach a city in
the afternoon, they made prep