seek for food, though what food this barren island should afford, I know not.”

All the party dispersed at once in search of provisions, some climbing the rocks, some wandering along the beach, and some seeking to penetrate farther inland. Returning towards evening slowly and sadly to the huts, they examined the store that had been found—a few periwinkles and barnacles and some other small shell-fish, but a poor feast for so many famished men. Their search, continued far and wide over the island, discovered no other food, save a kind of small herb which grew under the snow. This they ate day after day, and so were able to keep a little life in them though they were always faint and hungry.

Five out of the little colony were already dead from cold and hunger and exhaustion, when one day a sailor wandering farther than he had yet been, came upon a little hut, empty and deserted, but giving a better and more comfortable shelter than their sail-covered huts.

Six of the company determined to live in this new home, thinking that the chances of finding food for the whole would be increased when they were more widely scattered on the island. And scarcely had they taken up their abode in their new quarters, when they were overjoyed by finding on the beach, close at hand, a large dead fish. They did not know whether it was a whale or a porpoise, but they saw that it was quite fresh and fit for food, and every one of them believed that God had sent this great deliverance in answer to their prayers for help. All hands turned out to drag the fish to their hut, and no sooner was it safely housed than a terrible storm broke over the island, which lasted nine days. So fierce was the wind, so pitiless the tempest, that during all that time not one of the sailors dare set foot outside the cottage, and had it not been for the merciful provision which God had bidden the waves to bring to them, they must all have perished with hunger.

The fish was at length eaten, not a fin, nor a morsel of flesh remained, and once more the sailors were forced to seek along the shore for shell-fish, which was now their only food. Christoforo was one day seated in the cottage. He had grown white and thin, and his long lank hair looked dry and rusty, as it hung over his sunken cheeks. He was gazing listlessly on the dull sea, and on the distant, cloud-like lines which told of other islands, or may be of the main land far off.

“If we could only reach those shores,” he thought, “may be men dwell thereon, and we might find food. But we have neither boat nor wood whereof to make one, neither have we strength to row, so seemeth there no choice but we must all perish here; the will of God be done.”

Raising his eyes, which had sunk while he pursued these sad thoughts, he suddenly sprang to his feet, and with a glad shout cried, “Rejoice, behold two come to seek us,” and as he spoke, his companions, looking out, saw two shepherd lads climbing the hill-side.

The strangers turned and fled in terror at the sight of man on this lonely island, and the sailors following to the shore found there a little boat in charge of an old man. They had learnt some prudence now, and they approached quietly, making signs of good-will and of humility, and asking by look and gesture his pity on their great distress. The two lads soon came down and joined their father, and though none of the three could understand a word of the Italian speech, it chanced that there was one among the sailors, Girado da Lione by name, who had learnt a few words of Norwegian, and by means of this interpreter they managed to tell the visitors of their terrible needs.

The little boat would hold but two besides its owners, and Girado da Lione and Bernardo the pilot were chosen to accompany the shepherds to their home, and to get help to bring off all who remained of the shipwrecked crew. On their way they questioned the shepherd, as well as they could, on the cause of his journey to the island.

“A strange reason was it, truly, my friends,” answered the old man, “but my son can tell you better than I. Speak, my son.”

The younger of the two oarsmen, a lad of about sixteen, answered bashfully: “It was a dream, strangers, that led our boat to that shore. My father had lost two heifers, white were they, with black stars on their forehead and there were none like them in the island where we dwell. Long did we seek our missing kine, and great was our sorrow when we found them not; but last night I dreamed that I saw them feeding upon this island, the cliffs of which we can sometimes see from our home. When I awakened I persuaded my father to take the boat and let us row to the island.”

“We found not our heifers,” said the old fisherman, smiling, “but, thank the good God, we found men. Doubtless it was God who sent my son this dream, that so we might be in time to save you.”

They were soon received by a crowd of eager peasants, who crowded down to the beach, when the story of the rescue spread. They were in another island now, far larger, and moreover cultivated and inhabited, and food was given them, and shelter offered, and clean clothes brought to replace their own ragged and dirty garments. But of course the first anxiety of the two rescued sailors was to send relief to their companions at the hut, and to those who might yet remain alive on the other side of the island. The kind islanders prepared quite a fleet of little boats in which to hasten to the rescue of these poor deserted men, but at the huts which they had first built, only five were found alive, and their new friends prepared with sad hearts to bury the dead as well as to save the living.

The eleven survivors grasped each other’s hands with feeling too deep for words; they the only ones left of the sixty-eight who, in full health and strength, had left the shores of Candia. “Truly,” said one, “we had been swallowed up of the sea, if our Lord Jesus Christ had not been merciful to us, who forsaketh not them that religiously call upon Him.”

“Now we must part,” said they among themselves, “and seek our way to Venice on foot or by sea, as we may find means. Sad news bring we thither, and many heavy hearts must we make. But God has spared us to our dear ones, and let us few that remain remember that we live only to commend to memory, and highly to exalt, the great power of God.”

The following passages are taken from the journal kept by Captain James, the commander of a vessel bound for the northern seas. His ship, having on board a crew of twenty-two men, left England in May, 1631, to attempt the discovery of the long-desired North-West Passage. After terrible storms and disasters, the ship being fast-locked in ice the adventurers were compelled to winter in the Arctic regions; and, as the journal relates, proceeded to make preparations for passing the long months on an uninhabited island near to the ship. The extracts from the diary tell the story of those months, speaking in words which need no comment, of high hope, of constant courage, and of a sincere and true-hearted dependence on God. Throughout all the disappointments and perils of his expedition, Captain James seems ever to have kept alive trust in God, and a sure belief that all that could befall him and his, would be directed by an All-wise hand;