"Well sir, it was December, long toward Christmas an' the wind was howlin' like a pack o' wolves. The poor little ship--she wa'n't much bigger'n this here boat o' ours--drove plumb on the rocks. "There was six passengers, one of 'em a lady. One of the men was a doctor--he was her brother. "They got off the boat when she drove ashore an' they climbed up onto the top o' the island. They didn't have nothin' with 'em 'ceptin' only an old piece of a sail. What was that to feed on, all winter? They knew there wouldn't be anybody comin' that way till the nex' spring. "The crew, they stayed on board: they said they was goin' to get off some o' the stuff for 'em all to eat while they was cooped up on the island waitin' for spring. "But the storm done 'em dirt. The wind came on to blow harder'n ever, an' pretty soon the sea she just picked up the ship an' hauled her off and--crickety-crack!--she went slam-bang to pieces on the Old Harry Shoals. Didn't have no more chance than a paper bag at a picnic. No sir, there weren't one man saved out o' the whole crowd. "So there was them six people stuck up on top o' the rock." "Did they have to stay there all winter?" "Now you wait a minute. I'm a-tellin' you. Some time 'long in April there was a hunter come that way duck-shootin'. "He shot a duck an' it dropped in the big waves runnin' and jumpin' on the beach. "He got out o' the boat to get it--an' it weren't there! "'Mercy on us!' says he. 'I shot that duck just as sure as I'm soaked clean through. It musta fell right here. What's become o' it? Where's it gone to?' "He looked round and looked round like Robinson Crusoe huntin' fer somebody. He looked up an' he looked down, an' it wa'n't no use. Wa'n't no duck there. "'It musta been magic,' he says. 'Magic. Somethin' queer about this place!' "Then he sees little pieces o' wood churnin' around in the foam. "'What's happened here?' he says to himself. 'Musta been a ship went to pieces here some time.' 'Cause he found some o' the splinters had letters on 'em showin' they used to be parts o' boxes, an' pretty soon he finds a life-preserver that says on it '_The Queen_, St. John's.' "'Guess I'll climb up to the top o' the rock an' take a look,' says he. So up he climbs, the birds flappin' round him an' screamin' 'cause they're afraid maybe he's goin' to hurt their eggs. "Up an' up he clumb, an' he gets up to the top. The grass is long an' green an' the soft yellow buttercups is pretty--but what he sees lyin' there in the buttercups ain't pretty at all. "Six dead bodies lyin' there stretched out, with the piece o' the old torn sail over 'em. The bodies is fallin' to pieces, but in the fingers o' one is some flesh torn out o' the next one to it. "Then he finds a little book with writin' in it where one of 'em had been writin' down as long as he could what happened.