LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET.
LONDON:
RAVILL, EDWARDS AND CO., PRINTERS, CHANDOS STREET,
COVENT GARDEN.
CONTENTS.
CHAP.
I. [WHY I WENT TO SEA]
II. [ADVENTURE IN A CASK]
III. [THE NARROWS OF ST. JOHN]
IV. [THE BRIG "LEDA"]
V. [KIDD THE PIRATE]
VI. [THE "BLACK SCHOONER"]
VII. [THE CHASE]
VIII. [OUR REVENGE SCHEMED]
IX. [OUR REVENGE EXECUTED]
X. [THE SEAL-FISHERS]
XI. [COMBAT WITH A SEA-HORSE]
XII. [ON AN ICEBEEG]
XIII. [ON THE ICEBERG—THE MASSACRE AT HIERRO]
XIV. [ESCAPE FROM THE ICEBERG]
XV. [UNDER WEIGH ONCE MORE]
XVI. [BESET WITHOUT HOPE]
XVII. [THE DEATH-SHIP]
XVIII. [LEAVES FROM THE LOG]
XIX. [THE GRAVES ON THE STARBOARD BOW]
XX. [ADRIFT ON THE DEAD FLOE]
XXI. [CAPE FAREWELL]
XXII. [THE MUSK-OX]
XXIII. [THE FOUR BEARS]
XXIV. [WOLMAR FYNBÖE]
XXV. [ADIEU TO THE REGION OF ICE]
XXVI. [A SHARK]
XXVII. [THE FATAL VOYAGE OF THE HEER VAN ESTELL]
XXVIII. [THE FATAL VOYAGE—HOW THEY CAST LOTS]
XXIX. [ADVENTURE WITH A WHALE]
XXX. [LOSS OF THE "LEDA"]
XXXI. [THE CRY]
XXXII. [THE TWELFTH DAY]
XXXIII. [WHAT FOLLOWED]
XXXIV. [THE SAILOR'S POST-OFFICE]
XXXV. [MS. LEGEND OF EL CABO DOS TORMENTOS]
XXXVI. [LEGEND CONTINUED—THE CATASTROPHE]
XXXVII. [LEGEND CONCLUDED—THE SEQUEL]
XXXVIII. [WE LAND IN AFRICA]
XXXIX. [THE KING OF THE SNAKE RIVER]
XL. [THE GABON CLIFF]
XLI. [HOW THE CAPTAIN PERISHED]
XLII. [AMOO]
XLIII. [THE RESCUE OF HIS CHILD]
XLIV. [THE GRATITUDE OF HIS WIFE]
XLV. [FLIGHT]
XLVI. [FLIGHT CONTINUED]
XLVII. [THE WOOD OF THE DEVIL]
XLVIII. [RETAKEN]
XLIX. [THE CARAVAN]
L. [WE REACH THE CAPITAL]
LI. [AN OLD FRIEND IN A NEW PLACE]
LII. [HARTLY'S STORY]
LIII. [THE FEMALE GUARDS]
LIV. [ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE AGAIN]
LV. [THE FORMOSA]
LVI. [A PERILOUS JOURNEY]
LVII. [PURSUIT AGAIN—CONCLUSION]
JACK MANLY.
CHAPTER I.
WHY I WENT TO SEA.
It was the evening of the sixteenth of March.
Exactly six months had elapsed since I left my father's snug villa at Peckham, with its walls shrouded by roses and honeysuckle; and now I found myself two thousand three hundred miles distant from it, in his agent's counting-room, in the dreary little town of St. John, in Newfoundland, writing in a huge ledger, and blowing my fingers from time to time, for snow more than ten feet deep covered all the desolate country, and the shipping in the harbour was imbedded in ice at least three feet in thickness; while the thermometer, at which I glanced pretty often, informed me that the mercury had sunk twelve degrees below the freezing point.