moment expected our fate.  It blew a hurricane of wind, with thick rainy weather, that we could not see twice the boat’s length; we pray’d earnestly for its clearing up, for nothing else could save us from perishing; we no sooner ask’d for light, but it was granted us from above.  At the weather’s clearing up, we saw the land on the north shore, with islands, rocks and breakers all around us; we were oblig’d to put in among ’em for shelter, finding it impossible to keep the sea, we were in with the land amongst them, and compell’d to push thro’, looking death in the face, and expecting every sea to bury us; the boldest men amongst us were dismay’d, nor can we possibly give an account in what manner we have been this day deliver’d.  After sailing amidst islands, rocks, and breakers, for above a league, we got safe into a good harbour, surrounded with small islands, which kept the sea off; here the water was as smooth as in a mill-pond.  We call this harbour the Port of God’s Mercy, esteeming our preservation this day to be a miracle.  The most abandon’d among us no longer doubt of an Almighty Being, and have promis’d to reform their lives.

Wednesday the 11th, the wind much abated, with rain.  This morning weigh’d, and ran farther in.  In the evening we saw two Indians lying on their bellies on the top of a steep rock, just over the vessel, peeping with their heads over the hill.  As soon as we discover’d them, we made motions to them to come down; they then rose up, and put on their heads white feather’d caps; we then hoisted a white sheet for an ensign:  At this they made a noise, pronouncing Orza, Orza, which we took for a signal to come ashore.  We would not suffer above two men to go ashore, and those disarm’d, lest we should put them in fear.  The Indians had nothing in their hands but a club, like our cricket-batts, with which they kill their seal.  As soon as they saw the two men come ashore they walk’d away, and when they perceiv’d our men follow’d them, and gain’d ground of them, they took to their heels, frequently looking back, crying Orza, Orza, beckoning the people to follow, which they did for a mile or two along-shore, out of sight of the vessel:  Then the Indians fled to the woods, still wanting our people to follow them; but being disarm’d, they were apprehensive the Indians would bush-fight them, so they thought proper to give over the pursuit, and to return to the boat.

Thursday the 12th, hard gales at W.N.W., with rain.  At six this morning we again saw the two Indians, they made the same noise and motions to come ashore:  At which I went with four of the people; the Indians walk’d and ran as before, looking back, and making signs to follow, which we did till we got to the place where the canoe lay with the four Indians in her.  The two Indians got into the canoe, and put her off the shore before we could get nigh them:  As soon as we got abreast of the canoe, they made signs as if they wanted clothing; we endeavour’d to make them understand we wanted fish, and would truck with them; they had none, but signified to us they would go and get some:  They had a mangey dog, which they parted with to one of the people for a pair of cloth trowsers; this dog was soon kill’d, dress’d, and devour’d.  Here we found plenty of muscles, which gave us great relief, having scarce any thing to subsist on for this week past.