to which they clapp'd a Top-gallant-yard, we again scudded, altogether
ignorant where we were; for a Sea which pooped us the second Day, had
carried away the Binnacle with the Two Compasses; and they either had
not, or knew not, where to find another. We left our selves to the Mercy
of the Sea and Wind, for we had no other Party to take; and tho' the
former run Mountain-high, yet finding the Ship made no Water, the
Captain apprehended no Danger, but that of being drove on some Coast.

I had not the least Compassion for any of the Pyrates, he alone
excepted; for he was much more humane to us who would not take on with
him, than could be expected from one of his Profession, which he told
me, one Day, he had enter'd upon much against his Inclinations, and that
he would gladly quit that detestable Life, were it possible for him: But
as he had no Hopes of Pardon, having, on board a Man of War, killed a
Boatswain, who abused him, he was obliged to continue his Villainies for
his own Security. This Man alone shewed some Sense of a Deity. I never
heard him in the Storm swear an Oath; but, on the contrary, I often
heard him, as by stealth, say, _Lord have Mercy on me! Great God forgive
me!_ The Seventh Day, a Sea poop'd us, and wash'd away this unhappy Man,
and the Two who were at the Wheel, whom we never more set Eyes on. Two
others immediately stepp'd into their Places. The Loss of the Captain
was an Addition to our Misfortune, which together with the violent
Continuance of the Storm, took away all Hopes of Safety.

On the Tenth Day, about Nine in the Morning, we struck upon a Rock with
that Violence, that those who were in their Hammocks were thrown out,
and those who walk'd the Deck, were struck off their Legs. The Pumps
were immediately try'd, and some ran into the Hold, and found the Ship
made a great deal of Water. They plied the Pumps, but in less than ten
Minutes, she struck again, and a Sea coming over us, I saw no more