morning, it blew a heavy gale from east to east-south-east, with a heavy sea running.  In the meantime, the pinnace labored heavily, and several seas broke over her.  Willis now saw that their only chance of safety lay in altering their course.  All the canvas was already braced up except the jib, which was necessary to give the craft headway, and with this sail alone they were soon after speeding at a rapid rate in the direction of the Polynesian Islands.  The gale continued almost without intermission for three weeks, during which period Willis considered they must have been driven some hundreds, of miles to the north-west.

The gale at length ceased, the sea resumed its tranquility, and the wind became favorable.  The pinnace had, however, been a good deal battered by the storm, and their fresh water was getting low, and it was decided they should still keep a westerly course till they reached an island where they could refit before resuming their voyage.

“The gale has not done us much good,” said Jack, sadly; “if it had blown the other way, we might have been in the Indian Ocean by this time.”

“Cheer up,” said Willis, taking the glass from his eye, “I see land about three miles to leeward, and the landing appears easy.”

“But the savages?” inquired Jack.

“The islands of this latitude are not all inhabited,” replied Fritz; “besides, under our present circumstances, we have no alternative but to take our chance with them.”

“Well, I do not know that,” objected Jack; “it would be better for us to do without fresh water than to run the risk of being eaten.”

“What a beautiful coast!” cried Willis, who still kept the telescope at his eye.  “Near the shore the land is flat, and appears cultivated; but behind, it rises gradually, and is closed in with a range of hills, covered with trees.  There is a beautiful bay in front of us, which appears to invite us ashore.  But the place is inhabited; the shore is strewn with huts, and I can see clumps of the bread-fruit tree growing near them.”

“What sort of vegetable is the bread-fruit?” inquired Fritz.

“It is a very excellent thing, and supplies the natives with bread without the intervention of grain, flour-mills, or bakers.  It can be eaten either raw, or baked, or boiled; either way, it is palatable.  The tree itself is like our apple trees; but the fruit is as large as a pine-apple—­when it is ripe, it is yellow and soft.  The natives, however, generally gather it before it is ripe; it is then cooked in an oven; the skin is burnt or peeled off—­the inside is tender and white, like the crumb of bread or the flour of the potato.”

“Let me have the telescope an instant,” said Fritz; “I should like to see what the natives are like.  Ah, I see a troop of them collecting on shore; some of them seem to be covered with a kind of wrought-steel armor.”

“Perhaps the descendants of the Crusaders,” remarked Jack, “returning from the Holy Land by way of the Pacific Ocean!”