In crossing the bay, we met with a squall that tore our rotten sails to
pieces, prevented our getting into the Kill and drove us upon Long
Island. In our way, a drunken Dutchman, who was a passenger too, fell
overboard; when he was sinking, I reached through the water to his
shock pate, and drew him up, so that we got him in again. His ducking
sobered him a little, and he went to sleep, taking first out of his
pocket a book, which he desir'd I would dry for him. It proved to be
my old favorite author, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, in Dutch, finely
printed on good paper, with copper cuts, a dress better than I had ever
seen it wear in its own language. I have since found that it has been
translated into most of the languages of Europe, and suppose it has
been more generally read than any other book, except perhaps the Bible.
Honest John was the first that I know of who mix'd narration and
dialogue; a method of writing very engaging to the reader, who in the
most interesting parts finds himself, as it were, brought into the
company and present at the discourse. De Foe in his Cruso, his Moll
Flanders, Religious Courtship, Family Instructor, and other pieces, has
imitated it with success; and Richardson has done the same, in his
Pamela, etc.

When we drew near the island, we found it was at a place where there
could be no landing, there being a great surff on the stony beach. So
we dropt anchor, and swung round towards the shore. Some people came
down to the water edge and hallow'd to us, as we did to them; but the
wind was so high, and the surff so loud, that we could not hear so as
to understand each other. There were canoes on the shore, and we made
signs, and hallow'd that they should fetch us; but they either did not
understand us, or thought it impracticable, so they went away, and
night coming on, we had no remedy but to wait till the wind should
abate; and, in the meantime, the boatman and I concluded to sleep, if
we could; and so crowded into the scuttle, with the Dutchman, who was
still wet, and the spray beating over the head of our boat, leak'd
thro' to us, so that we were soon almost as wet as he. In this manner
we lay all night, with very little rest; but, the wind abating the next
day, we made a shift to reach Amboy before night, having been thirty
hours on the water, without victuals, or any drink but a bottle of
filthy rum, and the water we sail'd on being salt.

In the evening I found myself ver