A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder | Page 9

with animals and vegetation;
who knows?"
"What! amid all this ice?" I cried. "Are you mad?"
"Mad?" said he; "I should certainly go mad if I hadn't hope."
"Hope!" I repeated; "I have long since given up hope."
"Oh, well," said he, "enjoy your despair, and don't try to deprive me of my consolation.
My hope sustains me, and helps me to cheer you up. It would never do, old fellow, for
both of us to knock under."
I said nothing more, nor did Agnew. We drifted on, and all our thoughts were taken up
with the two volcanoes, toward which we were every moment drawing nearer. As we
approached they grew larger and larger, towering up to a tremendous height. I had seen
Vesuvius and Stromboli and AEtna and Cotopaxi; but these appeared far larger than any
of them, not excepting the last. They rose, like the Peak of Teneriffe, abruptly from the
sea, with no intervening hills to dwarf or diminish their proportions. They were ten or
twelve miles apart, and the channel of water in which we were drifting flowed between
them.
Here the ice and snow ended. We thus came at last to land; but it was a land that seemed
more terrible than even the bleak expanse of ice and snow that lay behind, for nothing
could be seen except a vast and drear accumulation of lava-blocks of every imaginable
shape, without a trace of vegetation--uninhabited, uninhabitable, and unpassable to man.
But just where the ice ended and the rocks began there was a long, low reef, which

projected for more than a quarter of a mile into the water, affording the only possible
landing-place within sight. Here we decided to land, so as to rest and consider what was
best to be done.
Here we landed, and walked up to where rugged lava-blocks prevented any further
progress. But at this spot our attention was suddenly arrested by a sight of horror. It was a
human figure lying prostrate, face downward.
At this sight there came over us a terrible sensation. Even Agnew's buoyant soul shrank
back, and we stared at each other with quivering lips. It was some time before we could
recover ourselves; then we went to the figure, and stooped down to examine it.
The clothes were those of a European and a sailor; the frame was emaciated and dried up,
till it looked like a skeleton; the face was blackened and all withered, and the bony hands
were clinched tight. It was evidently some sailor who had suffered shipwreck in these
frightful solitudes, and had drifted here to starve to death in this appalling wilderness. It
was a sight which seemed ominous of our own fate, and Agnew's boasted hope, which
had so long upheld him, now sank down into a despair as deep as my own. What room
was there now for hope, or how could we expect any other fate than this?
At length I began to search the pockets of the deceased.
"What are you doing?" asked Agnew, in a hoarse voice.
"I'm trying to find out who he is," I said. "Perhaps there may be papers."
As I said this I felt something in the breast-pocket of his jacket, and drew it forth. It was a
leather pocket-book, mouldy and rotten like the clothing. On opening it, it fell to pieces.
There was nothing in it but a piece of paper, also mouldy and rotten. This I unfolded with
great care, and saw writing there, which, though faded, was still legible. It was a letter,
and there were still signs of long and frequent perusals, and marks, too, which looked as
though made by tears--tears, perhaps of the writer, perhaps of the reader: who can tell? I
have preserved this letter ever since, and I now fasten it here upon this sheet of my
manuscript.
THE LETTER.
"Bristol April 20. 1820.
"my darling tom
"i writ you these few lines in hast i don like youar gon a walen an in the south sea dont go
darlin tom or mebbe ill never se you agin for ave bad drems of you darlin tom an im
afraid so don go my darlin tom but come back an take anoth ship for America baby i as
wel as ever but mises is pa an as got a new tooth an i think yo otnt go a walen o darlin
tom * * * sea as the wages was i in New York an better go thar an id like to go ther for
good for they gives good wages in America. O come back my Darlin tom and take me to
America an the baby an weel all live an love an di together

"Your loving wife Polley Reed."
I began