“We shall certainly all need our strongest boots and thickest wraps and waterproofs, as we join our sailor hero. Sleet and hail are beating around the boat on all sides, and every few minutes a wave dashes across the bows. When we land on one of the Islands, and trudge along by the Captain’s side, on one of his exploring expeditions, we find the mud more than knee-deep in many places.
“We shall find the natives a very miserable lot of people. They have no form of worship, no idols; they know nothing whatever of God. There is not even a word in their language to express the name of God. They are Indians, and divided into many different tribes, all at enmity with each other; always quarrelling and at war. Food is often the cause of the trouble, for it is very hard to get.
“There are Canoe Indians and Foot Indians. The Canoe Indians live almost entirely upon fish and fungus, and the Foot Indians on birds and animals killed by bows and arrows and spears made of whalebone. Nowhere do we see the smallest sign of the land being tilled or cultivated; indeed, corn would not ripen in the Land of Fire, for the climate is very damp and windy. Even in summer the sun rarely shines, only wind and rain then take the place of the winter storms of sleet and snow.
“There is plenty of good water on the Islands, so, as our supply on board the Clymene is running short, we will draw into one of the harbours and refill the water-casks before we pursue our journey to Banner Cove, where the Captain thinks of putting up the wooden storehouse he has brought from England, and landing our goods.
“Before the Clymene sails away, while our companions are busy fixing up a tent, we spy several canoes of Indians coming towards us. In a moment our friend has his telescope pointed in their direction, eager to find out all about them. We soon see they are afraid; it is the glass that frightens them. They think it some dangerous weapon! So it is quickly laid aside and we make signs of friendship.
“Many of the men come on board after a time, and gladly take the buttons we offer in exchange for fish and shell necklaces. They are queer-looking, dark brown people, with large heads, small, sharp, black eyes, and long, jet-black hair hanging straight down over each shoulder.
“A little girl, about three years old, ventures near the Captain, and very great is the delight of all when she returns to her mother with a bright-coloured cotton handkerchief round her shoulders. They are much interested in us, and the keen, black eyes watch intently every movement, while the water-casks are brought from the shore, and taken from the small boat to the larger vessel.
“I wonder how many of us keep a diary! There is one diary I know all of us, yes every boy and girl and grown-up reader of this book, would very much like to see. How tenderly we should turn over those storm-stained pages! How lovingly we should gaze at the clear pencil hand-writing of this wonderful diary!
“Perhaps if we really did see and read it, some of us would be inspired with feelings akin to those of a little girl of nine years old who went home from a missionary meeting and wrote:—‘Mark xvi. 15 says: “Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature.” This is a commandment of my Saviour, to be obeyed by me as soon as I am old enough.’
“More than fifty years ago, Captain Smyley, in command of the John Davidson, sailed into Banner Cove. He was searching for a party of seven missionaries to whom he had been sent with food and stores. He found no Englishmen or native of the Land of Fire upon the seashore, but painted on a rock he saw a notice: ‘Dig below.’ The crew landed, and obeying the first two words, they dug up a bottle containing a paper, on which was written: ‘We are gone to Spaniard’s Harbour.... We have sickness on board: our supplies are nearly out, and if not soon relieved we shall be starved out.’”