THE SHIPWRECK. Doubling Cape Horn—A storm—Our Traveller Shipwrecked Taken up—Earthquake—Escape to the shore—Adventures on shore—Journey to Bonaventura—Safe Arrival. Here our friend Tom Starboard in his sailor style, gives an account of a remarkable shipwreck. But there is nothing better than to let him tell the story himself. The account is natural, though it may be a fiction. “We did not go through the Straits of Magellan, as the passage is dangerous; but we passed them and doubled Cape Horn. We went merrily on, touching land, occasionally, to take in water, fruit, and live stock, now and then speaking a vessel, or finding some new kind of fish, or wonderful bird, till we neared the island of Juan Fernandez. Here the weather changed, and such a storm came down upon us as I never saw before or since. “Before it reached its height, and while we were all in good spirits, a gust of wind blew my hat off, when Ned, to make me laugh, called out, ‘Tom, your hair will be blown off too, if you don’t hold it on; my shoestrings have been whisked out this half-hour.’ “But the fury of the storm so increased, as to put all laughing and joking out of our thoughts. Night came on so rapidly that it seemed as if a mighty black cloud had fallen suddenly over us. The gallant vessel which had weathered so many storms, struck on a sunken rock, and went to pieces, as if she had been made of glass! I got entangled in some loose rigging, which had been snapped and unravelled like twine, and this circumstance, which I expected would be the cause of my death, saved my life. Part of the topmast was attached to the ropes which the furious blast twisted round me, as it swept off my shipmates in crowds, into the fierce waters: and away I went also, at the same moment, with my brave captain!—I never more saw a soul from the vessel, nor an atom of her stout planks. “How long I floated in my net work of ropes, I cannot tell. I remember the wrath of the panting billows, as they were urged onwards by the furious hurricane. On they dashed over my defenceless head, throwing the shattered mast against my wounded limbs, and straining the cords till they cut into my flesh. I remember, too, that the storm seemed to subside as quickly as it had arisen. Then a noise as if a vessel toiling through the waves came over me, and a mixed feeling of fear and hope passed through my confused brain;—then a shout and a grappling with my coiling ropes;—then a sensation of the soft air, and of my mounting through it;—and then a buzz of voices, as I lay in quietness on a solid floor. [Illustration: Person in rowboat] [Illustration: Sailing ship] “Alas! how wretched I felt, when I found that all the voices were strange, the language foreign, and the faces dark and unknown to me. A Portuguese merchant vessel, bound for the city and port of Guayaquil, had picked me up.