A fair wind, however, was a comfort, and as I put on my clothes, I began to think that by making a proper use of the helm and standing upright in the boat, my body would serve as a small sail, when “He, he, hoe!” shouted twenty voices, on the larboard side of me.  I started with astonishment, as may be imagined, and turning round, perceived, fifty yards from me, a large boat driving before the waves, impelled on by ten oars.  It was filled with men, casks, and kegs, and one at the helm was making signals, apparently inviting me to stop.  A few minutes after, we were close to each other; and I daresay our astonishment was mutual,—­theirs to see me alone and without oars; mine, to behold such a wretched spectacle.  They were evidently the crew of a wrecked vessel, and must have undergone frightful privations and fatigues, so emaciated was their appearance.

No time, however, was to be lost.  All of them asked for water, and pointed to the horizon, to know in which direction they should go.  My stone jug was full; I handed it to the man at the helm, who seemed to be the captain; but the honest and kind-hearted fellow, pouring out a small quantity in the cup, gave some to all his companions before he would taste any himself.  The jug was a large one, containing two gallons or more, but of course was soon emptied.

I gave them a fried mackerel, which I had kept for my supper; they passed it to the captain, and, in spite of his generous denial, they insisted upon his eating it immediately.  Seeing which, I showed them nine or ten other raw fishes, two or three of which were heavy, and proposed to cook them.  They sang and laughed:  cook the fish!  No; little cooking is wanted when men are starving.  They divided them brotherly; and this supply, added to the honey for the captain and the bear’s grease for the sailors, seemed to have endowed them with new life.

The captain and four of the men, with oars, stepped into my skiff.  At that moment the stars were beginning to appear; and pointing out to him one in the east as a guide, we ploughed our way towards the shore, greatly favoured both by the wind and the waves.  In a singular mixture of English, French, Italian, and Latin, the captain made me comprehend that his vessel had been a Russian brig, bound from Asitka, in Russian America, to Acapulco, in Mexico, for a supply of grain, tallow, and spirits; that it had been destroyed by fire during the night, scarcely allowing time for the men to launch the long-boat.  No provisions could be procured; the boxes and kegs that had been taken in the hurry were of no use; that they had been rowing forty-eight hours without food or water, and were ignorant of their distance from the shore; and, finally, that they had perceived my skiff a good half-hour before I awoke; thought it at first empty, but saw me rising, and called to me, in the hope that I would guide them to a landing-place.  In return I explained to him my adventure as well as I could, and made him promises of plenty for the next day; but I might have talked for ever to no purpose; the poor fellow, overpowered with fatigue, and now feeling secure, had sunk into a deep sleep.