Parties now Went on shore and scoured the neighborhood.  One of these was headed by the captain.  They had not proceeded far when they beheld a person at a distance in civilized garb.  As he drew near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer.  There was a burst of joy, for it was hoped his comrades were near at hand.  His story, however, was one of disaster.  He and his companions had found it impossible to govern their boat, having no rudder, and being beset by rapid and whirling currents and boisterous surges.  After long struggling they had let her go at the mercy of the waves, tossing about, sometimes with her bow, sometimes with her broadside to the surges, threatened each instant with destruction, yet repeatedly escaping, until a huge sea broke over and swamped her.  Weekes was overwhelmed by the broiling waves, but emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions.  Aiken and Coles were not to be seen; near him were the two Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing that they might swim more freely.  He did the same, and the boat floating near to him he seized hold of it.  The two islanders joined him, and, uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her stern and rocking her, they forced out so much water that she was able to bear the weight of a man without sinking.  One of the islanders now got in, and in a little while bailed out the water with his hands.  The other swam about and collected the oars, and they all three got once more on board.

By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, and Weekes called on his companions to row for land.  They were so chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all heart, and absolutely refused.  Weekes was equally chilled, but had superior sagacity and self-command.  He counteracted the tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold produces by keeping himself in constant exercise; and seeing that the vessel was advancing, and that everything depended upon himself, he set to work to scull the boat clear of the bar, and into quiet water.

Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; his companion threw himself on his corpse and could not be persuaded to leave him.  The dismal night wore away amidst these horrors:  as the day dawned, Weekes found himself near the land.  He steered directly for it, and at length, with the aid of the surf, ran his boat high upon a sandy beach.

Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him towards the adjacent woods.  The poor fellow, however, was too feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to abandon him to his fate and provide for his own safety.  Falling upon a beaten path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came to a part of the coast, where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld the ship at anchor and was met by the captain and his party.