San Francisco, July 2, 1865.
We are safely here at last, after forty-two days' passage,—longer than the children of Israel were in the wilderness. When we return it will be by a wagon-train, if the Pacific Railroad is not done.
When we landed on Roncador Reef, we had no data for conjecturing where we were, except that we remembered passing the island of Jamaica at twilight on the evening preceding the wreck. We were afterwards informed that the vessel was seized by a strong current, and borne far away from her proper course. How gay we were that night, with our music and dancing, exhilarated all the more by the swiftness of the white, rushing water that drove us on to our fate!
The heat on the island was so intense, that our greatest necessity was for some shelter from the sun. The only materials which the place furnished us were rocks of coral, with which we built up walls, over which were spread pieces of sail from the vessel. We lived in these lodges, in little companies. We sat together in ours in the daytime, and could not leave our shelter for a moment without feeling as if we were sunstruck. Every night we abandoned it, and slept out on the rocks; but the frequent little showers proved so uncomfortable that we were driven to great extremity to devise some covering. R.'s ingenuity proved equal to the emergency. He secured an opportunity to visit the vessel (which held together for some days) in one of the boats which were continually plying between her and the island, bringing over all available stores. All the mattresses and other bedding that could be secured had been distributed, mostly to the mothers and children. His penetrating eye detected the materials for a coverlet in the strips of painted canvas nailed to the deck. He managed without tools to tear off some pieces, and, by untwisting some tarred rope, to fasten them together; thus providing a quilt, which, if not comfortable, was at least waterproof, and served to draw over us when a shower came on. It was no protection, however, against the crabs, large and small, that used to crawl under it, and eat pieces out of our clothes, and even our boots, while we were asleep. These crabs were of the hermit order. Each one, from the minutest to the largest, had taken possession of the empty shell of some other creature, exactly large enough for him, and walked about with it on his back, and drew himself snugly into it when molested. Every little crevice in the rocks had a white or speckled egg in it when we landed, and from these we made a few good meals. The one day the women spent on the island alone with the birds passed in the most friendly manner; but after the men and boys came, the larger ones abandoned us.
We felt sorry not to bring away some of the beautiful shells which were plentiful there, and more gorgeous than any thing I ever saw before. While the living creature is in them, they are much brighter than after it is dead; and in the length of time it takes to bring them from tropical countries, they fade almost like flowers. Mrs. S. was so enterprising, and, I must say, so unæsthetic, as to try to concoct a meal from the occupants of some of the large conch-shells taken from the beach, cooking it for a considerable length of time in a large brass kettle, the only available utensil. Those who partook of it in our little group had cause to repent of their rashness; but we did not like to charge the injury to the lovely creatures which were sacrificed for this feast, preferring to "blame it on" to the brass kettle, as the California children would express it. The more cautious ones contented themselves with their two sea-biscuits and fragment of beef or pork per day, which were the regular rations served to each from the stores saved from the ship. Some surface water, found among the rocks, was carefully guarded, and sparingly dealt out.
After we had been four or five days on the island, two of the ship's boats were sent out to seek assistance, manned by volunteer crews; one headed for Aspinwall, which was thought to be about two hundred and fifty miles distant, and the other to search for what was supposed to be the nearest land.
Very early on the morning of the tenth day we heard the cry of "A sail!" We started up from our rocky beds, and stood, without daring to speak. There was a little upright shadow, about as large as a finger, against the sky. Every eye was turned to it, but no one yet dared to confirm it; and, even if it were a sail, those on board the vessel might not see our island, it was so low, or our flag of distress, as we had nothing on which to raise it very high. We stood for several minutes, without daring to look at each other with the consciousness that we were saved. We presently saw that there were two little schooners beating up against the wind, directly towards us, and that they carried the red English flag. They had been catching turtles on the Mosquito Coast. As soon as our boat reached them, they unloaded their turtles (which occupied them a day), with the exception of three large ones which they reserved for us, and then started at once.
These small vessels were unequal to carrying away half the people on the island, and they had no arrangements for the comfort of passengers. A considerable number decided to embark on them, and commenced doing so; while the larger part of the company remained on the spot, to take their chance of escape in some other way, since communication with the world was now established.
The next day we were all rejoiced by the appearance of two United States gunboats from Aspinwall, which point was reached by our other boat, after a rough experience; the waves having capsized her during the passage, and swallowed up the provisions and nautical instruments.