"We thought that when the gale abated, and the sea grew calm, and the sun came out, our sufferings would have an end; but they only then began. Our stock of water was becoming less and less. Many of our provisions had been so damaged by the sea, that they quickly decayed. The sea became calm as the lagoon inside a coral isle; the sun burst forth with intense heat; our thirst grew excessive. Our island was plentifully supplied with water, and we had always been accustomed to an abundance; yet now we dared not drink more than the shell of a small nut could hold at a time. Carefully we husbanded the precious fluid; we had learned to know its value. At last the time came when not a drop remained. Every calabash was examined over and over again--the last drop was drained out. We sat down, and looked mournfully at each other. Our thirst increased. We dipped our heads in salt water--we continually sprinkled each other over with it; but that did not convey coolness to our parched tongues. `We must die,' exclaimed some one. `No, no,' answered one of our missionary brethren; `we will pray without ceasing--we will trust in God. He will send us relief when we least expect it.' That very evening a flight of sea-fowl flew close to the canoe. We were able to knock over several. Their blood assisted to quench our thirst; their flesh, too, revived our strength. The next day several fish were caught; but it was not food we wanted. `Water! water! water!' was the cry from old and young alike. Still a day passed away-- there was no sign of land--no sign of rain. The next day came; intolerable was the thirst we endured by noon. In vain we strained our eyes through the hot, quivering atmosphere; the sky was blue and pure as ever; not a speck could we discern in the horizon. We had hoped that we might reach the group of islands to which we had been bound; we accordingly kept, as we believed, a direct course for it. Another morning broke. During the night, our sufferings had been intense. Could we survive through another day? We stood up to glance round the horizon. Directly before us arose, as if sprouting out of the water, a line of palm and cocoa-nut trees! How eagerly we plied our oars to reach the island on which they grew! How thankfully our voices sang the morning hymn, and uttered our accustomed prayers! We rapidly neared the spot. We might have run close by it in the night without seeing it. We paddled round to find a spot on which to land. Tantalising indeed was it to see the ground where we might hope to gain life and strength, and yet not be able to place our feet on it. At last an opening appeared in the surrounding reef, we ran in, and, hauling up our canoe, hurried off in search of water. No water could we find, but the strongest climbed some of the cocoa-nut trees, and quickly threw down a supply of their refreshing fruit. Oh, how delicious and cool was the milk which they