what must be done, I tore a strip from my handkerchief, on which I traced the words—‘Do not despair! Help is near!’
“This I carefully bound round one leg, replacing the rag on the other, and then applied myself to the complete restoration of the bird. It gradually revived; and after drinking a little, surprised me by suddenly rising on the wing, faltering a moment in its flight, and then rapidly disappearing from my view in a westerly direction.
“Now, father, one thought occupies me continually: will my note ever reach this Englishwoman? Shall I be able to find, and to save her?”
I listened to this account with feelings of the liveliest interest and astonishment.
“My dear son,” said I, “you have done wisely in confiding to me alone your most exciting discovery. Unless we know more, we must not unsettle the others by speaking of it; for it appears to me quite possible that these words were penned long ago on some distant shore, where, by this time, the unhappy stranger may have perished miserably. By the ‘smoking rock’ must be meant a volcano. There are none here.”
Fritz was not disposed to look at the case from this gloomy point of view; did not think the rag so very old; believed smoke might rise from a rock which was not volcanic; and evidently cherished the hope that he might be able to respond effectually to this touching appeal.
I was in reality as anxious as himself on the subject, but judged it prudent to abate rather than excite hopes of success which might be doomed to bitter disappointment
After earnest consultation on the subject, we decided that Fritz should go in search of the writer of the message, but not until he had so altered the canoe as to fit it for carrying two persons, as well as provisions sufficient to admit of his absence for a con-
