we met with on her way to France, all save five who, with the
priest, had a wish to join me.

But we had not set sail long, when we fell in with a ship that
had been blown out to sea by a storm, and had lost her masts;
and, worse than all, her crew had not had an ounce of meat or
bread for ten days. I gave them all some food, which they ate
like wolves in the snow, but I thought it best to check them, as
I had fears that so much all at once would cause the death of
some of them.

There were a youth and a young girl in the ship who the mate said
he thought must be dead, but he had not had the heart to go near
them, for the food was all gone. I found that they were faint for
the want of it, and as it were in the jaws of death; but in a
short time they both got well, and as they had no wish to go back
to their ship, I took them with me. So now I had eight more on
board my ship, than I had when I first set out.

In three months from the time when I left home, I came in sight
of my isle, and I brought the ship safe up, by the side of the
creek, which was near my old house.

I went up to Friday, to ask if he knew where he was. He took a
look round him, and soon, with a clap of the hands, said "O yes!
O there! O yes! O there!" Bye and bye, he set up a dance with
such wild glee, that it was as much as I could do to keep him on
deck. "Well, what think you, Friday?" said I; "shall we find
those whom we left still here?--Shall we see poor old Jaf?" He
stood quite mute for a while, but when I spoke of old Jaf (whose