Each boat had a compass, a quadrant, a copy
of Bowditch's Navigator, and a Nautical Alma-
nac, and the Captain's and chief mate's boats
had chronometers. There were 31 men, all
told. The Captain took an account of stock,
with the following result: four hams, nearly
thirty pounds of salt pork, half-box of raisins,
one hundred pounds of bread, twelve two-pound
cans of oysters, clams, and assorted meats, a
keg containing four pounds of butter, twelve
gallons of water in a forty-gallon "scuttle-butt,"
four one-gallon demijohns full of water, three
bottles of brandy (the property of passengers),
some pipes, matches, and a hundred pounds of
tobacco. No medicines. Of course the whole
party had to go on short rations at once.

*May 2.*—Latitude 1° 28' N., longitude 111° 38' W. Another hot and sluggish day; at one time, however, the clouds promised wind, and there came a slight breeze—just enough to keep us going. The only thing to chronicle to-day is the quantities of fish about: nine bonitas were caught this forenoon, and some large albicores seen. After dinner the first mate hooked a fel-low which he could not hold, so he let the line go to the Captain, who was on the bow. He, holding on, brought the fish to with a jerk, and snap went the line, hook and all. We also saw astern, swimming lazily after us, an enormous shark, which must have been nine or ten feet long. We tried him with all sorts of lines and a piece of pork, but he declined to take hold. I suppose he had appeased his appetite on the heads and other remains of the bonitas we had thrown overboard.

May 23.—A good breeze all night, allowing us to head about northwest or a little better. Took a longitude observation this morning, but the sun was overclouded at noon, so we could make but neither latitude nor longitude. Our chances as we go west increase in regard to being picked up, but each day our scanty fare is so much reduced. Without the fish, turtle, and birds sent us, I do not know how we should have got along. The other day I offered to read prayers morning and evening for the Captain, and last night commenced. The men, although of various nationalities and religions, are very attentive, and always uncovered. May God grant my weak endeavor its issue!

God's protecting care—preserved us through
both the night and the day; and really it is
most marvelous how every morsel that passes
our lips is blessed to us. It makes me think
daily of the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
Henry keeps up wonderfully, which is a great
consolation to me. I somehow have great con-
fidence, and hope that our afflictions will soon
be ended, though we are running rapidly across
the track of both outward and inward bound
vessels, and away from them; our chief hope is
a whaler, man-of-war, or some Australian ship.
The isles we are steering for are put down in
Bowditch, but on my map are said to be doubt-
ful. God grant they may be there!

["Hardest day yet."—Captain's Log.]

["Two days' scanty supplies left—ten rations of water apiece and a little morsel of bread. But the sun shines, and God is merciful."—Captain's Log.]

Sunday, June 3.—Latitude 17° 54'. Heavy sea all night, and from 4 A.M. very wet, the sea breaking over us in frequent sluices, and soaking every thing aft, particularly. All day the sea has been very high, and it is a wonder that we are not swamped. Heaven grant that it may go down this evening! Our suspense and condition are getting terrible. I managed this morning to crawl, more than step, to the forward end of the boat, and was surprised to find I was so weak, especially in the legs and knees. The sun has been out again, and I have dried some things, and hope for a better night.

June 4.—Latitude 17° 6' ; longitude 131° 30'.
Shipped hardly any seas last night, and to-day
the sea has gone down somewhat, although it is
still too high for comfort, as we have an occa-
sional reminder that water is wet. The sun has
been out all day, and so we have had a good
drying. I have been trying for the past ten or
twelve days to get a pair of drawers dry enough
to put on, and to-day at last succeeded. I men-
tion this to show the state in which we have
lived. If our chronometer is any where near
right, we ought to see the American Isles to-
morrow or next day. If they are not there, we
have only the chance, for a few days, of a stray
ship, for we can not eke out the provisions more
than five or six days longer, and our strength is
failing very fast. I was much surprised to-day
to note how my legs have wasted away above my
knees; they are hardly thicker than my upper
arm used to be. Still I trust in God's infinite
mercy, and feel sure He will do what is best for
us. To survive, as we have done, thirty-two
days in an open boat, with only about ten days'
fair provisions for thirty-one men in the first place,
and these twice divided subsequently, is more
than mere unassisted human art and strength
could have accomplished or endured.

"Bread and raisins all gone."—Captain's log.

"Men growing dreadfully discontented, and awful
grumbling and unpleasant talking is arising. God
save us from all strife of men; and if we must die now,
take us himself and not embitter our bitter death still
more."—Henry's log.

June 5.—Quiet night and pretty comfortable
day, though our sail and block show signs of
failing, and need taking down—which latter is
something of a job, as it requires the climbing
of the mast. We also had bad news from for-
ward, there being discontent and some threat-
ening complaints of unfair allowances, etc., all
as unreasonable as foolish; still these things bid
us be on our guard. I am getting miserably
weak, but try to keep up the best I can. If we
can not find those isles we can only try to make
northwest and get in the track of Sandwich Isl-
and bound vessels, living as best we can in the
mean time. To-day we changed to one meal,
and that at about noon, with a small ration of
water at 8 or 9 A.M., another at 12 M., and a
third at 5 or 6 P.M.

"Nothing left but a little piece of ham and a gill of
water, all round."—Captain's log.

134°. Dry night, and wind steady enough to require no change in sail; but this A.M. an attempt to lower it proved abortive. First, the third mate tried and got up to the block, and fastened a temporary arrangement to reeve the halyards through, but had to come down, weak and almost fainting, before finishing; then Joe tried, and after twice ascending, fixed it and brought down the block; but it was very exhausting work, and afterward he was good for nothing all day. The clew-iron which we are trying to make serve for the broken block works, however, very indifferently, and will, I am afraid, soon cut the rope. It is very necessary to get every thing connected with the sail in good, easy running order before we get too weak to do any thing with it.

["Only three meals left."—Captain's Log.]

*June 7.—Latitude 16° 35' N.; longitude 136° 30' W. Night wet and uncomfortable. To-day shows us pretty conclusively that the American Isles are not here, though we have had some signs that looked like them. At noon we decided to abandon looking any further for them, and to-night haul a little more northerly, so as to get in the way of Sandwich Island vessels, which, fortunately, come down pretty well this way—say to latitude 19° to 20° to get the benefit of the trade-winds. Of course all the westing we have made is gain, and I hope the chronometer is wrong in our favor, for I do not see how any such delicate instrument can keep good time with the constant jarring and thumping we get from the sea. With the strong trade we have, I hope that a week from Sunday will put us in sight of the Sandwich Islands, if we are not saved before that time by being picked up.*

*June 8.—My cough troubled me a good deal last night, and therefore I got hardly any sleep at all. Still I make out pretty well, and should not complain. Yesterday the third mate mendeds the block, and this r.m. the sail, after some difficulty, was got down, and Harry got to the top of the mast and rove the halyards through after some hardship, so that it now works easy and well. This getting up the mast is no easy matter at any time with the sea we have, and is very exhausting in our present state. We could only reward Harry by an extra ration of water. We have made good time and course to-day. Heading her up, however, makes the boat ship seas, and keeps us all wet; however, it can not be helped. Writing is a rather precarious thing these times. Our meal to-day for the fifteen consists of half a can of "soup-and-bouillé"—the other half is reserved for to-morrow. Henry still keeps up grandly, and is a great favorite. God grant he may be spared!*

*["A better feeling prevails among the men."—Captain's Log.]*

*June 9.—Latitude 17° 53'. Finished to-day, I may say, our whole stock of provisions. We have only left a lower end of a ham-bone, with some of the outer rind and skin on. In regard to the water, however, I think we have got ten days' supply at our present rate of allowance.*

This, with what nourishment we can get from
boot-legs and such chewable matter, we hope
will enable us to weather it out till we get to
the Sandwich Islands, or, sailing in the mean
time in the track of vessels thither bound, be
picked up. My hope is in the latter—for in all
human probability I can not stand the other.
Still we have been marvelously protected, and
God, I hope, will preserve us all in His own good
time and way. The men are getting weaker,
but are still quiet and orderly.

*Sunday, June 10.—Latitude 18° 40', longitude 142° 34'. A pretty good night last night, with some wettings, and again another beautiful Sunday. I can not but think how we should all enjoy it at home, and what a contrast is here! How terrible their suspense must begin to be! God grant it may be relieved before very long, and He certainly seems to be with us in every thing we do, and has preserved this boat miraculously; for since we left the ship we have sailed considerably over three thousand miles, which, taking into consideration our meagre stock of provisions, is almost unprecedented. As yet I do not feel the stint of food so much as I do that of water. Even Henry, who is naturally a great water-drinker, can save half of his allowance from time to time, when I can not. My diseased throat may have something to do with that, however.*

Nothing is now left which by any
flattery can be called food. But they
must manage @ somehow for five
or six weeks, for they have still 800
miles to go. It is a race for life, now.

This is no time for comments, or other
interruptions... from me — every moment
is valuable. I will take up the boy-
brother's diary, & clear the seas before
it's time to fly.

HENRY FERGUSON'S LOG.

*Sunday, June 10.—Our ham-bone has given us a taste of food to-day, and we have got left a little meat and the remainder of the bone for to-morrow. Certainly never was there such a sweet knuckle-bone, or one which was so thorougly appreciated. * * * I do not know that I feel any worse than I did last Sunday, notwithstanding the reduction of diet; and I trust that we may all have strength given us to sustain the sufferings and hardships of the coming week. We estimate that we are within 700 miles of the Sandwich Islands, and that our average, daily, is somewhat over 100 miles, so that our hopes have some foundation in reason. Heaven send we may all live to reach land!*

*June 11.—Ate the meat and rind of our ham-bone, and have the bone and the greasy cloth from around the ham left to eat to-morrow. God send us birds or fish, and let us not perish of hunger, or be brought to the dreadful alternative of feeding on human flesh! As I feel now, I do not think any thing could persuade me; but you can not tell what you will do when you are reduced by hunger and your mind wandering. I hope and pray we can make out to reach the Islands before we get to this strait; but we have one or two pretty desperate men aboard, though they are quiet enough now. It is my firm trust and belief that we are going to be saved.*

*["All food gone."—Captain's Log.]*

*June 12.—Stiff breeze, and we are fairly flying—dead ahead of it—and toward the Islands. Good hopes, but the prospects of hunger are*