We had a heavier gale that night than we had before encountered. The seas again and again washed over the deck. It seemed wonderful that more of the men did not knock up.
The first mate looked thin and haggard, and so did most of the other officers and men. The bulwarks on both sides had been carried away, two of the boats had been injured, and the ship had suffered various other damages.
Still we kept at it; the wind shifted; Cape Horn was actually weathered, and at length a joyous cheer burst from the throats of the crew as the ship’s head was directed to the north-west. It was some days, however, before we felt any sensible change of climate, but after that it grew warmer and warmer, for we were now fairly in the Pacific.
The captain was disappointed in his expectations of recovering his sight. He came daily on deck and stood turning his head round in every direction, and I observed a painful expression on his countenance.
“I’ll tell you what, Peter, I’ve a notion how the captain came to lose his sight,” said Horner to me in a confidential tone. “It’s a punishment to him for the way he treated Esdale, and you, and Jim.”
“We have no right to think that,” I answered; “even if he had treated me ten times worse than he has done, I should not wish him to suffer what must be to a man of his nature so terrible a misfortune.”
“Well, then, I suppose I must keep my opinion to myself,” answered Horner.
In a few days we reached the island of Juan Fernandez, and hove-to off it that the boats might go in close to the shore to catch some fish. Mr Griffiths gave Jim and me leave to go in one of them. We were provided with hooks and lines. The water was so clear that we could see the fish take the bait, which they did so ravenously, that in a short time we had as many rock cod and other fish as we required. We afterwards landed and brought off a quantity of wild mint, which grows in profusion over the island. We made it into tea, which we enjoyed very much after drinking pea-coffee so long.
While we were collecting the mint we saw a number of goats bounding among the rocks, some standing still and looking down on us. They were descendants of those which inhabited the island in the days of Alexander Selkirk, who was taken off by Dampier during his last voyage to the Pacific.
At first we thought that there were no inhabitants, but just as we were shoving off we heard a shout, and a white man and negro were seen rushing down towards us, shouting and gesticulating furiously.