me that she was exerting herself, not so much to entertain us, as to keep up Mrs Hudson’s spirits.

The meal did not occupy much time, so that we had but little opportunity of talking. I thought the young lady’s voice very sweet and melodious; indeed, she seemed to me the most perfect being I had ever seen. But then, it must be remembered, I was but a midshipman, and my experience was not very extensive; and the best part of a year had passed since we left England.

At last, however, Mudge, pulling out his watch, observed that it was time to be on board again; so getting up, he wished Mrs Hudson and the young lady good-bye in his hearty way, and I was compelled to follow his example. Tears came into Mrs Hudson’s eyes as she took me by the hand and murmured, “May Heaven preserve you from the dangers of the sea!” The young lady smiled very sweetly, and I could not help wishing that I might have the opportunity of paying another visit to the Hopewell.

The first mate had accompanied me on deck, where I found the master talking to Mudge. I therefore went a little way along the deck to summon our boat’s crew, who were with the men forward.

“Mrs Hudson appears to be very melancholy,” I observed to my companion.

“She has reason to be so, poor lady,” said the mate. “She has never got over the loss of her only child, in these seas, some years ago. It was a sad affair, for he was a fine brave little chap, the pet of all hands. The master’s, and my boat, and the second mate’s, had gone off in chase of whales, when another fish was seen spouting in an opposite direction. The third mate’s boat was lowered, when the little fellow, whose mother was ill below, asked to be taken. The third mate, instead of refusing, thoughtlessly consented to let him go; and before the boatswain or any one else who had sense in his head saw what he was doing, he had carried him down into the boat; no one on deck, indeed, knew he had gone. Away pulled the boat, when the look-out at the mast-head shouted that one of our boats had struck a fish, and the boatswain accordingly made sail towards her. The whale, however, darted away, towing the boats for a league or more farther off, and we then had a hard matter to kill it. It had long been dark before we got alongside, by which time the weather had changed, and the wind was blowing very strong, while a nasty sea had got up.

“I shall never forget the state poor Mrs Hudson was in when she could not discover what had become of her child; while her husband was almost as bad. At last one of the boys, who had before been afraid to speak, acknowledged that he saw little Harry in the arms of the third mate just before the boat shoved off, but that he, being called below at that moment, could not tell what had become of the child. We at once cut adrift the fish we had secured, and made sail in the direction the boat was supposed to have gone, placing lanterns in the rigging and firing guns to show our whereabouts. The weather, however, had been growing worse and worse, and with the heavy sea there was running, the boat herself, we knew, would be in no slight peril.

“All night long we continued cruising over the ground; but not a sign of the boat could we discover. When morning came, we continued our search, with the same want of success. Towards noon the weather again moderated; but though fish were seen spouting, the master would not send the boats after them; and unwilling as we were to lose them, none of us had the heart to press him to do so.

“For the best part of a week we stood backwards and forwards in all directions looking for the boat; till at last the men began to grumble, and I felt it my duty to urge the master to carry out the object of the voyage. Almost broken-hearted, he consented to do so. Slowly his poor wife recovered; and from that day to this they have never found any trace of their lost child. Probably the third mate had got hold of a fish; and he having but little experience, his boat must have been knocked to pieces, or else dragged down by the line becoming foul before it could be cut.”

“A very sad history,” I remarked; “and I am not surprised at poor Mrs Hudson’s melancholy. But who is the young lady?” I asked.

“That is more than I can tell you,” he answered. “She came on board the evening before we sailed, but not one of us had ever heard of her till then, and neither the master nor Mrs Hudson thought fit to enlighten us on the subject; while she herself, though ready enough to talk to me at the dinner-table, seldom says anything to any of us on deck.”

“How very romantic!” I could not help exclaiming, more interested than ever in the young lady.

Wishing Captain Hudson good-bye, we shoved off, and as we pulled away we saw the young lady standing on the poop watching us. I pulled off my cap, and she waved her handkerchief in return.

The account we gave of her and the master’s wife excited much interest on board.

The next morning, as the gale continued, a party was made up to visit the shore. It consisted of the second lieutenant and master, Peter Mudge, Tommy Peck, and I. We pulled in for the opening we had seen, and which I found to be much farther off than I had supposed—the height of the rocks at the entrance, which rose sheer out of the water, making the land appear quite close to us. At length we entered a narrow passage with high rocks on both sides for some distance, completely bare of trees; indeed, there was not a spot in which the roots could have fixed themselves. Gradually, however, the passage opened out, and we found ourselves in a large basin, the shore of which was covered with the richest vegetation, extending far up the sides of the mountains rising around us. Dark rocks peeped out from amid the trees which grew on the mountain-sides till lost to view, while above them were seen towering peaks covered with glittering snow. The master sounded as we went in, and found the depth of water sufficient for the largest ship. Here she might remain at anchor or moored to the trees, while the fiercest gale was blowing outside, as securely as in an artificial dock.

We pulled round one side of the basin, but could find no opening by which, should we step on shore, we could make our way up the mountain. We did, indeed, land at two or three places, but it was impossible to get beyond a few yards from the water’s edge. Probably, no human being had ever before set foot in that wooded region. Not even the chirp of a bird was heard, nor was any sign of life visible—silence and solitude reigned around. The whole surface of the ground was one mass of rotten timber, covered with various descriptions of moss and ferns. The trunks of trees which had fallen either from age and decay, or from being blown down by the wind, lay about in all directions; another generation having grown up to share the same fate, and to be succeeded by others still proudly rearing their heads green and flourishing.

“Come, it won’t do to be balked!” exclaimed the master. “We’ll make our way somehow or other through the forest;” and the boat was run with her bow against the yielding bank. “You’ll follow me!” As he said this he sprang on shore, or rather on to the trunk of a tree. “All right—come along,” he exclaimed; “do as I do.” The next instant, however, over he went on his nose, and disappeared.

We followed, and found his legs sticking up, while his head and shoulders were three or four feet deep in damp wood and moss. We managed to haul him out, covered from head to foot with wet moss; his blue suit turned into one of green, fitted for the woodland region in which he was so anxious to roam. Undaunted, however, he made his way onwards, now climbing over a somewhat firm trunk; only, however, the next instant to sink up to his middle in the moss and decayed wood. Tommy followed, but was very nearly smothered, and not without difficulty we hauled him out; then the master, finding himself alone, came back grumbling at our cowardice, as he called it.

We now all embarked, and pulled along the shore in the hope of finding a more practicable way up the mountain. As we got to the head of the basin, we discovered a stream flowing into it; up this we pulled for some distance,—the bank on either side being covered with vegetation,—till we reached a rocky ledge on one side, over which the water had apparently at one time flowed. A low waterfall a slight distance ahead showed that further progress was impracticable. We accordingly landed on the ledge, and once more attempted to make our way up the mountain. We had much the same sort of ground to go over as that on which the master had made his first essay; but as the belt of forest which separated us from the steep side of the mountain was much narrower than in the former place, we persevered, and soon found that we were ascending.

Up and up we went, helping ourselves along by the roots and branches of the trees, the more stunted growth of which at length showed the height we had reached. We now emerged from the forest, when the ground above us appeared covered with spongy moss, the walking over which we found comparatively easy, saturated though it was with snow-water, which fell in every direction in tiny cascades over the side of the mountain. Even the grass and moss were at length left behind, and we found ourselves treading on half-melted snow, which, as we ascended, became more crisp and solid—the bright glare, as the sun fell on it, proving very trying to our eyes after the gloom of the forest. Still, on we went for some distance, the ground being almost level; then we ascended, and, passing over the ridge, descended once more into a shallow valley, on the other side of which the mountain rose at a moderate inclination, which, it appeared to us, we could mount without any impediment till we reached the summit. Thence we expected to obtain a magnificent prospect over the sea on one side, and the country towards the interior on the other.

We did get up it somehow or other, panting and exhausted, with our heads aching and our eyes dizzy, to encounter a fierce snow-storm which shut out all objects from view. To remain here longer might prove our destruction; we soon, therefore, began our descent. But the traces of our upward path were obliterated, and after descending a short distance we discovered that we had lost our way. I had gone some little distance ahead of the rest of the party, when I saw before me a gentle slope of snow, by sliding down which I fancied that I should quickly arrive at the bottom; so, calling to my companions, I began slipping gently downwards.

“It’s very pleasant and easy,” I shouted out—“come along;” and on I went.

I had gone some hundred yards, when, the atmosphere clearing, I saw rising before me a perpendicular cliff, which I knew was the opposite side of a deep chasm. Unless I could stop myself, I should be dashed to pieces. I thereupon dug my arms and legs into the snow; but still on I went. I now heard a shout, and looking up I saw Tommy laughing merrily as he descended, totally unaware of the fearful peril he was in. I cried out to him to stop himself if he could; but he did not understand what I said. On I went; not a tree nor a rock appeared to which I could cling. The precipice could not have been fifty yards before me, when, making another desperate effort, I got my feet through the snow and fixed against a rock in the ground. Still Tommy came on, with the rest of the party some way above him. Just as he shot by me, I seized him by the leg and brought him up. “Why did you do that?” he cried out, even then not knowing how close he was to the edge of the precipice. When he saw it, he joined his shouts with mine; and then pointing to the left, where I observed that the inclination was less steep, we directed the party towards it. Scrambling along on our knees and hands, we joined them; and now, moving with the greatest care, fearing every instant to be sent sliding down to our right, we at length reached a ledge by which we made our way into the valley.

The danger was now past, but we had to undergo immense fatigue before we got back to the boat.

We had intended calling on board the whaler, to pay another visit to Captain Hudson, but the lateness of the hour compelled our return to the ship. I was much disappointed, as I hoped to see the young lady by whose appearance I had been so much struck the previous day; but I consoled myself with the expectation of being able to go on board the next morning.

During the night, however, the gale completely ceased; and when I came on deck I saw the whaler under all sail standing out of the harbour, with the wind off the land. We followed, but did not again get near enough to communicate with her. We stood some distance off the coast, and then continued our course to the northward.

Very frequently, afterwards, did the image of that fair young girl recur to my memory, though she did not appear to have made so much impression on Peter Mudge; but he sometimes spoke of the captain’s wife, and seemed to sympathise with her on the loss of her child, though it had happened so long ago.

The peaks of the Cordilleras again came in sight, at a distance of a hundred and fifty miles, long before the shore at the base of the mighty range was visible—one of them, Aconcagua, rising to an elevation of upwards of 23,000 feet above the ocean. We touched at Valparaiso; which might, we agreed, possibly be a paradise for fleas, but certainly not for human beings of good taste. The climate is fine,—of that I have no doubt,—but the surrounding country is sterile and monotonous, the vegetation just then on the hills consisting of half-withered cacti, though in the valleys and the plains to the left of the town we saw groves of fruit trees and flowering shrubs. I can best describe the place by saying that it is divided by two deep ravines into three hills, sprinkled over with whitewashed houses; the hills are called fore-top, main-top, and mizen-top.

Sailing from thence, during my watch one morning I heard a cry of “Land ahead!” I looked out, but nothing like land could I see.

“We shall get sight of it before long from the deck,” observed Mudge, “if we keep our eyes open.”

The ship, as she glided onward, rose and sank with the swell of the ocean; and presently, as she rose, I caught sight of what appeared to be a fleet of vessels at anchor. The next instant they had disappeared; but as she rose on the next swell I again caught sight of the seeming masts, which I gradually discovered to be tall cocoa-nut palms or pandanus trees. On approaching nearer, the whole white beach was distinctly seen; and above it a narrow belt of land of a light clay colour, surrounding a perfectly smooth lagoon of a beautiful blue tint; while against the outer belt the surf was breaking with terrific force. The highest part of the land appeared to be about ten or twelve feet above the level of the sea; and we calculated that the belt between the sea and the lagoon was about seven hundred feet wide, the soil being composed of coral débris and vegetable matter. Besides the palm-trees, there were a few shrubs not more than fourteen or fifteen feet in height. The whole island was about eight miles long, and from one and a half to two miles wide.

We sounded as we approached, but could obtain no bottom; and it was not till we got quite close that the lead gave us ninety fathoms, and farther on seventy, thus proving that the land was the top of a submerged mountain. Such, indeed, are all the islands of this group. Once upon a time in the world’s history, a mountainous region existed on the spot over which we were sailing, which gradually sank till the ocean flowed over all the highest portions. The coral insects finding it a convenient situation on which to build, the temperature of the water suiting their constitution, commenced operations, and formed an encircling reef round the shore. These creatures can only live at a certain depth beneath the surface;