"Of the seven men thus miraculously thrown upon the unknown shore,
I was the only one capable of action. I had just seen my brother and
my little ones snatched away, and I strove to keep down my agony of
soul by striving for the safety of my fellow-sufferers. I succeeded,
after a time, in bringing the captain back to consciousness. The others
were numbed with cold, for an icy rain was falling in torrents. Not
wishing to lose sight of the ship, I handed them my flint and steel
and powder-horn, telling them to light a fire at the edge of the wood.
In this they failed signally; scarcely had they strength enough to
come and tell me of their failure, so weak were they and numbed with
cold. After many attempts, I succeeded in making a fire just in time
to save their lives. Then I returned to the beach, hoping to save some
poor creatures who might be washed ashore. I remained there from three
in the afternoon till six o'clock in the evening, when the ship went
to pieces. Never, never shall I forget the sight of the dead bodies
stretched upon the sand, more than a hundred in number, many of them
with legs or arms broken, their faces battered out of all recognition.
"Half stupefied by the calamity, we passed a sleepless and silent
night, and on the morning of the 16th we betook ourselves again to the
fatal shore. We passed the day in bestowing upon the dead such sad last
rites as were possible to such poor wretches as we.
"On the morrow we left this desert and inhospitable coast, and
directed our course into the interior. The winter had set in in all
its severity. We marched through snow up to our knees. Sometimes we
came to deep and rapid rivers, which forced us to make long _détours_.
My companions were so enfeebled by fatigue and famine that sometimes
I had to retrace my steps more than once to get their bundles, which
they had been compelled to drop. Their courage was utterly broken; and
sometimes I had to stop and make them rude moccasins to cover their
bleeding feet.
"Thus we dragged ourselves on, or rather I dragged them in tow, for
neither courage nor strength once failed me till at length, on the 4th
of December, we met two Indians. Imagine if you can the delirious joy
of my companions, who for the last few days had been looking forward to
death itself as a welcome release from their sufferings! These Indians
did not recognize me at first, so much was I changed by what I had
gone through, and by the long beard which had covered my face. Once I
did their tribe a great service; and you know that these natives never
forget a benefit. They welcomed me with delight. We were saved. Then I
learned that we were on the island of Cape Breton, about thirty leagues
from Louisbourg.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account