The Young Captives A Narrative of the Shipwreck and Suffering of John and William Doyley
THE YOUNG CAPTIVES. [Illustration] Here is a picture of a fine large English ship, called the _Charles Eaton_, which was wrecked in the Southern Ocean. The crew, you see, have made a raft of some of the spars and planks of the ship, and having all got upon it, are about cutting loose from the wreck, with the hope that they may reach one of the distant islands. Poor men! they did indeed reach the island; but only to meet a more dreadful death than that threatened them by the waves. Overcome with fatigue and anxiety, they no sooner gained the shore, than they all, captain, crew, and passengers, threw themselves on the earth, and soon were fast asleep. In this helpless state, they were attacked by the cruel and blood-thirsty savages who inhabited the island, and all barbarously murdered, except two little boys, John and William Doyley. These children, sons of a gentleman and lady who had been passengers in the ill-fated ship, were kept in captivity by the savages for many years.
"I am sorry he has gone--I used to like to have him serve me."
"And now what's the consequence? Here I am tied down to the bar day
and night."
"Can't you get some one in his place?"
"Yes, but I'd likely be robbed; I had a bartender once who robbed me
of two or three dollars a day."
"But you trusted the boy?"
"Yes, Dodger wouldn't steal--I can say that much for him."
"There's one thing I noticed about the boy," said the colonel,
reflectively. "He wouldn't drink. More than once I have asked him to
drink with me, but he would always say, 'Thank you, colonel, but I
don't like whiskey.' I never asked him to take anything else, for
whiskey's the only drink fit for a gentleman. Do you expect to get the
boy back?"
"If I could only get out for a day I'd hunt him up; but I'm tied down
here."
"I seed him yesterday, Tim," said a red-nosed man who had just entered
the saloon, in company with a friend of the same general appearance.
THE YOUNG CAPTIVES. [Illustration] Here is a picture of a fine large English ship, called the _Charles Eaton_, which was wrecked in the Southern Ocean. The crew, you see, have made a raft of some of the spars and planks of the ship, and having all got upon it, are about cutting loose from the wreck, with the hope that they may reach one of the distant islands. Poor men! they did indeed reach the island; but only to meet a more dreadful death than that threatened them by the waves. Overcome with fatigue and anxiety, they no sooner gained the shore, than they all, captain, crew, and passengers, threw themselves on the earth, and soon were fast asleep. In this helpless state, they were attacked by the cruel and blood-thirsty savages who inhabited the island, and all barbarously murdered, except two little boys, John and William Doyley. These children, sons of a gentleman and lady who had been passengers in the ill-fated ship, were kept in captivity by the savages for many years.