about what I never saw myself, nor experienced, nor so much as heard
from anybody else, and, what is more, of such things as neither are,
nor ever can be. I give my readers warning, therefore, not to
believe me.

* * * *

Once upon a time, {77} then, I set sail from the Pillars of
Hercules, and getting into the Western Ocean, set off with a
favourable wind; the cause of my peregrination was no more than a
certain impatience of mind and thirst after novelty, with a desire
of knowing where the sea ended, and what kind of men inhabited the
several shores of it; for this purpose I laid in a large stock of
provisions, and as much water as I thought necessary, taking along
with me fifty companions of the same mind as myself. I prepared
withal, a number of arms, with a skilful pilot, whom we hired at a
considerable expense, and made our ship (for it was a pinnace), as
tight as we could in case of a long and dangerous voyage.

We sailed on with a prosperous gale for a day and a night, but being
still in sight of land, did not make any great way; the next day,
however, at sun-rising, the wind springing up, the waves ran high,
it grew dark, and we could not unfurl a sail; we gave ourselves up
to the winds and waves, and were tossed about in a storm, which
raged with great fury for threescore and nineteen days, but on the
eightieth the sun shone bright, and we saw not far from us an
island, high and woody, with the sea round it quite calm and placid,
for the storm was over: we landed, got out, and happy to escape
from our troubles, laid ourselves down on the ground for some time,
after which we arose, and choosing out thirty of our company to take