I sat on the rail, just abaft the stack, watching some natives handle their big canoes, when a smaller one came alongside. I noticed that one of the occupants lay at full length in the frail craft, but paid little attention until the canoe touched our side. Then the bundle of skins and Indian clothes bounded up, almost screamed, "At last!" made a spring at the stays, missed them, and fell with a loud splash into the water. The Indians rescued him at once, and in a few seconds he lay like one dead on the deck. I saw at a glance that the stranger in Indian clothes was a white man and an American. A pretty stiff dram of liquor brought him to slightly. He opened his eyes, looked up at the rigging, and closing his eyes, he murmured: "Thank God!--'Frisco--Polaria!" I had him undressed and put into my berth. He was shaking as with an ague, and when his clothes were off we plainly saw the reason--he was a skeleton, starving. I went on deck at once to make some inquiry of the Indians about our strange visitor, but their boat was just disappearing in the twilight. The man gained strength, as we gave him nourishment in small, frequent doses, and talked in a disjointed way of everything under the sun. I sat with him all night. Toward morning he seemed to sleep longer at a time, and in the afternoon of yesterday fell into a deep slumber, from which he did not waken for nearly twenty hours. When he did waken, he took nourishment in larger quantities, and then went off into another long sleep. The look of pain on his face lessened, a healthy glow appeared on his cheek, and he slept so soundly that I turned in--on the floor. I was awake along in the small hours of the morning, and heard my patient stirring, so I got up and drew the little curtain over the bulls-eye port--it was already daylight. I gave him a drink and a biscuit, and told him I would go to the cook's galley and get him some broth, but he begged to wait until breakfast time--said he felt refreshed, and would just nibble a sea biscuit. Then he ate a dozen in as many minutes. "Did you take care of my pack?" he said eagerly, throwing his legs out of the berth, and looking wildly at me. "Yes, it's all right; lie down and rest," said I; for I thought that to cross him would set him off his head again. "Do you know that dirty old pack contains more treasures than the mines of Africa?" "It don't look it," I answered, and laughed to get him in a pleasant frame of mind--for I hadn't seen nor heard of his pack. "Not for the little gold and other valuable things, but the proofs of a discovery as great as Columbus made, the discovery of a new continent, a new people, a new language, a new civilization, and riches beyond the dreams of a Solomon----" He shut his eyes for a minute, and then continued: "But beyond Purgatory, through Death, and the other side of Hell----"