The vessel in sight was a large hermaphrodite brig, of a Dutch
build, and painted black, with a tawdry gilt figure-head. She had
evidently seen a good deal of rough weather, and, we supposed, had
suffered much in the gale which had proved so disastrous to
ourselves; for her foretopmast was gone, and some of her starboard
bulwarks. When we first saw her, she was, as I have already said,
about two miles off and to windward, bearing down upon us. The breeze
was very gentle, and what astonished us chiefly was, that she had no
other sails set than her foremast and mainsail, with a flying jib --
of course she came down but slowly, and our impatience amounted
nearly to phrensy. The awkward manner in which she steered, too, was
remarked by all of us, even excited as we were. She yawed about so
considerably, that once or twice we thought it impossible she could
see us, or imagined that, having seen us, and discovered no person on
board, she was about to tack and make off in another direction. Upon
each of these occasions we screamed and shouted at the top of our
voices, when the stranger would appear to change for a moment her
intention, and again hold on toward us -- this singular conduct being
repeated two or three times, so that at last we could think of no
other manner of accounting for it than by supposing the helmsman to
be in liquor.

No person was seen upon her decks until she arrived within about
a quarter of a mile of us. We then saw three seamen, whom by their
dress we took to be Hollanders. Two of these were lying on some old
sails near the forecastle, and the third, who appeared to be looking
at us with great curiosity, was leaning over the starboard bow near
the bowsprit. This last was a stout and tall man, with a very dark
skin. He seemed by his manner to be encouraging us to have patience,