The weekly Butte record., 1866-04-07
THE TRUE ROBINSON CRUsOEs.
Written by Lady IN San Francisco for the
California Sunday Mercury.

To night, sitting in my quiet room
watching the bright, round moon and
twinkling stars-listening to the hur-
ried footsteps of the passing crowd
my mind wanders back to an incident Of
my life in the year 1S55-ofa a night that
l spent alone. Never can it be effaced
from my memory. Years may roll by,
bringing with them their varied changes,
but the recollection of that night will
be as vivid when my brown tresses are
white, and my steps faltering, as now.
On the Sd of October, 1855, myself,
with a number of other passengers,
sailed from Sydney, N. S. W., in the
barque Julia Ann, Captain B. F. Pond,
bound for San Francisco. To me the
cabin of waved-tossed vessel, and a
trip across the deep green ocean were
never monotonous or disagreable. Our
trim little barque sailed proudly on,
and at times seemed almost ''thing of
life." Twas gay and happy, anticipa-
ting pleasant reunion with friends
from whom had long been separated.
Alas how little can we tell of the un-
certain future! On the twenty seventh
night of our passage, under full sail,
making ten miles an hour, our vessel
struck on reef of rocks, and in few
moments her destruction was complete.
Many were buried beneath the wild
waves of old ocean; but some lived to
suffer, and | was one. The rocks we
were wrecked upon lay ten miles from
land, and those that survived remained
upon them three days exposed to the
rays of tropical sun without food or
water. 1t is not my purpose, in this
sketch, to narrate the hardships and
sufferings We endured after reaching
land-an uninhabited island, ten miles
distant from the scene Of disaster
our home for three months-land crabs
forming our principal article of food
our drink, salt water filtered through
sand; our beds, coral rocks and our
canopy the blue arch of Heaven. 1t is
true we saved some flour; but that
alone must prove our salvation if We
were ever freed from our desolate con-
dition. The boat must be sent to some
friendly inhabited island, and how could
it be accomplished without food! A keg
had been saved from the wreck, and by
using the largest shells We could find
for dipping water, in few days we
succeeded in filling it. A shark was
found on the beach, of which we all
,partook. The sailors confidently whis-
pered to each other that by certain
marks they knew it was one they had
seen eating enc of the lady passengers
that was lost; an excellent woman |
had become greatly attached to. Others
said it was mere pretence, that they
might have large portion themselves.
l closed my eyes to the unwelcome sug
gesticn, and ate with ayidity the por-
ton allotted me. However, sailors are
naturally generous, but withal super
.stitions and fond of jokes. No class
are better capable of telling wild,
strange stories. Many hours | have
sat spellbound listening to adventures
that had occurred to them during the
long years passed on oceans vastly deep.
The Aour was emptied from the bag,
but it had been so long wet that it was
q mass of hard Jumps, and all the colors
Of the rainbow. This was pounded
with large pieces Of coral, then mixed
with water and baked on the hot stones.
We had obtained fire by the native
process-rubbing a. sort of pata found
in all the South Sea IslandS) until igni-
ted by the friction. But one boat was
saved, and that badly damaged. The
only material for repairing the injuries
was canvass, found from the wreck.
The ingenuity of the ship carpenter
and sailors made this available, and in
seven weeks it was completed and
deemed comparatively safe. A survey
was taken to find the harbor. Alas !.
the search was vain. None could be
found. We were alone on three little
islands, each one separated from the
other by reefs. Some Of the rocks on
these reefs were nearly dry, others
covered with fathoms of water. The
captain hardly knew how to break the
tidincs TO us. but no alternative remain