"Don't be crafty, Tommy, now. I hate crafty people. Your mother would never allow it, you know well; and my only chance for it is, when she is gone away. Do as I tell you. I am the skipper here. Mutiny, indeed, from a younker just shipped! You won't hear another word, until you bring my knife from the pocket with the yellow button to it, and a cake of Cavendish from the little midship locker. Very good; now cut where I scar my nail. It's not so much the comfort of it that I want, as to keep the throat juicy, and prevent me coughing, from hauling so many dry words out of my hold. Very well done, Tommy; I shall promote you. Now, where did I break my yarn off?" "About your all getting safe into the ship, sir, with two men wounded, and poor little Tommy dead. And you said, you hadn't come to the best part yet. Though I thought it was very good indeed already." "Well, my son, you shall hear the rest of it, and judge. As soon as we had brought ourselves round with victuals, for the sake of the hard day we had been through, I sent for the man we had rescued, and held a long talk with him in my cabin. As yet, I have only been able to meet with two men who had the gift of gratitude, and both of those happened to be Welshmen. The name of this man was Rees Edwards; and a smarter hand never went aloft. Welshmen, as a rule, are not first-rate seamen; but when they are good, they beat everything; and Rees Edwards was the best of them I ever came across. His last trip had been in an American bark called the _Beaver_, engaged in the Beachymess, and sponge-trade, among these Pacific islands. She had struck in the night, on the great coral-reef surrounding these two islands, and a smart breeze from seaward setting in, they had found it impossible to haul her off. A heavy sea got up, and she broached to, with the rocks grinding through her timbers. But the crew contrived to launch their boats, and finding a passage through the reef, made land, and were very soon surrounded by the natives. "These fellows shammed to be as good as gold at first, (though of course they knew nothing of their lingo) and supplied them with food, and gave them huts to live in, and laid themselves out to be obliging. So that the castaways, eighteen in number, began to go about the place, as if they were at home, and prepared, with the rough tools they could make, to build a craft big enough to carry them away. But suddenly two of their number were missing, and then two more, and then another couple; and the natives endeavoured to persuade them by signs, that these had only wandered away into the woods, and would soon find their way home again. The surviving dozen did their best to hope so, but took more care to keep together, and not to go abroad at all at night.