of the ship's company. They seemed determined
to delay their impending doom till the last
moment. They turned their attention to two
pigeons and a cat, the only living creatures
left on board. The pigeons were killed for their
Christmas dinner, and the cat was disposed of
the day after. They cast lots for the several
parts, as there were no less than nine to partake
of the repast. The head fell to the captain, and
never did he taste anything so delicious. When
the cat was entirely consumed, they began to
scrape the barnacles from the ship's bottom;
but the relief afforded by this expedient was
extremely trivial, as the waves had beaten off
the greater number above water, and the men
were too weak to hang over the ship's side.
Winterfield at this time subsisted entirely on
the dirty water, half a pint of which, with a
few drops of "Turlington's Balsam," formed
his whole allowance for the four-and-twenty
hours.

On the twenty-eighth of December they were
overtaken again by a most dreadful storm, which
tore away their only remaining sail, and reduced
the vessel to a complete wreck. At this time
they had not an inch of candle, nor a morsel of
flush to make any, having long since eaten up
every appearance of either which could be found.
The last morsel of meat they had tasted was
on the twenty-sixth of December. On the
thirteenth of the January following, the mate,
at the head of all the people, came into the cabin,
half-drunk indeed, but with looks full of horror,
and informed Winterfield that "they could
hold out no longer; their tobacco was entirely
exhausted; they had eaten up all the leather
belonging to the pump, and even the buttons of
their jackets; they had no chance in nature but
to cast lots, and sacrifice one of themselves for
the preservation of the rest; they therefore
expected his concurrence to the measure, and
desired to be favoured with an immediate
determination." Winterfield in vain endeavoured to
dissuade them from their purpose, and at length
bade them take their own course, adding that
he would neither give orders for the death of
the person on whom the lot might fall, nor
partake of the repast. In a few minutes they
came back, informing him that the lot had fallen
on a negro who was part of the cargo. It was
more than probable that the poor black had
been unfairly treated, but the wonder was that
he was allowed even the appearance of an equal
chance with the rest. They dragged him to the
steerage, where they shot him.

The crew husbanded the dead negro with
the severest economy, and it was not until the
twenty-ninth of January that the horrible
necessity of another sacrifice, stared them in
the face. The men again appeared in the cabin,
and opened the dreadful negotiation with the
captain. " They did not doubt," they said,
"but that he was now hungry, and would of
course take his chance with them as he had
done before, when his situation was infinitely
less desperate." Finding them deaf to all
remonstrance, Winterfield made shift to rise in
his bed, ordered pen, ink, and paper, and called
them all into the cabin. There were seven in
all, and "the lots were drawn in the same way
as the tickets are drawn for a lottery at
Guildhall." The lot fell upon David Flatt, a
foremast-man, the best sailor in the ship. The
shock of the decision was great, and the
preparations for his execution were dreadful. The
fire already blazed in the steerage, and everything
was prepared for sacrificing the victim
immediately. A profound silence took possession
of the company, and was only broken by
the victim, who appeared quite resigned.

"My dear friends, messmates, and fellow-sufferers,"
said he, "all I have to beg of you is
to despatch me as soon as you did the negro,
and to put me to as little torture as you can."

Then, turning to James Doud, the man who
shot the negro, he said, " It is my desire that
you should shoot me."

Doud reluctantly assented; the poor
fellow then begged a small time to prepare himself
for death, to which his companions  willingly
agreed, and even seemed at first desirous
to relinquish their claims upon his life, so
greatly was he respected. A few draughts of
wine, however, soon suppressed those
dawnings of humanity; but still, they consented to
let him live till eleven the next morning.  At
the same time they begged of the captain to
read prayers; and when he exerted himself to
comply with the request, they behaved with
decency.

Fatigued by the reading, the captain lay down,
and continued to hear the ship's company talking
to poor Flatt, assuring him that " although
they had never been able to catch, nor even to
see, a fish, they would at daybreak put out all
their hooks again." Unhappily, however, the
poor fellow, unable to stand the shock of his
position, grew astonishingly deaf before
midnight, and was quite delirious by four in the
morning. His messmates then deliberated
whether it would not be an act of humanity to
despatch him immediately; but the resolution to
spare him, preponderating, they all retired to
rest, except one, who sat up to take care of the
fire.

About eight next, morning, two of the crew
came running down into the captain's cabin, with
looks full of the strangest expression, and
seizing both his hands,  gave him no little
apprehension that they intended to sacrifice him
instead of Flatt. They had discovered a sail to
leeward, standing towards them. This report
was confirmed by the rest, and presently the
whole company was watching the approach of a
large vessel. At last, they saw a boat drop
astern, and rapidly advance. It was soon
alongside, but the appearance of the crew was so
ghastly that the men rested on their oars, and
with inconceivable astonishment  demanded what
they were. They were safely conveyed on board
the American ship Susanna, Captain Thomas
Eyres, in the Virginia trade; and were treated
with every humanity. Poor Flatt eventually
recovered, though not without two relapses.