The beginning - My early life and character - I thirst for adventure in foreign lands and go to sea.

ROVING has always been, and still is, my ruling passion, the joy of my heart, the very sunshine of my existence.In childhood, in boyhood, and in man's estate, I have been a rover; not a mere rambler among the woody glens and upon the hill-tops of my own native land, but an enthusiastic rover throughout the length and breadth of the wide wide world.

It was a wild, black night of howling storm, the night in which Iwas born on the foaming bosom of the broad Atlantic Ocean.My father was a sea-captain; my grandfather was a sea-captain; my great-grandfather had been a marine.Nobody could tell positively what occupation HIS father had followed; but my dear mother used to assert that he had been a midshipman, whose grandfather, on the mother's side, had been an admiral in the royal navy.At anyrate we knew that, as far back as our family could be traced, it had been intimately connected with the great watery waste.Indeed this was the case on both sides of the house; for my mother always went to sea with my father on his long voyages, and so spent the greater part of her life upon the water.

Thus it was, I suppose, that I came to inherit a roving disposition.Soon after I was born, my father, being old, retired from a seafaring life, purchased a small cottage in a fishing village on the west coast of England, and settled down to spend the evening of his life on the shores of that sea which had for so many years been his home.It was not long after this that I began to show the roving spirit that dwelt within me.For some time past my infant legs had been gaining strength, so that I came to be dissatisfied with rubbing the skin off my chubby knees by walking on them, and made many attempts to stand up and walk like a man;all of which attempts, however, resulted in my sitting down violently and in sudden surprise.One day I took advantage of my dear mother's absence to make another effort; and, to my joy, Iactually succeeded in reaching the doorstep, over which I tumbled into a pool of muddy water that lay before my father's cottage door.Ah, how vividly I remember the horror of my poor mother when she found me sweltering in the mud amongst a group of cackling ducks, and the tenderness with which she stripped off my dripping clothes and washed my dirty little body! From this time forth my rambles became more frequent, and, as I grew older, more distant, until at last I had wandered far and near on the shore and in the woods around our humble dwelling, and did not rest content until my father bound me apprentice to a coasting vessel, and let me go to sea.

For some years I was happy in visiting the sea-ports, and in coasting along the shores of my native land.My Christian name was Ralph, and my comrades added to this the name of Rover, in consequence of the passion which I always evinced for travelling.

Rover was not my real name, but as I never received any other Icame at last to answer to it as naturally as to my proper name;and, as it is not a bad one, I see no good reason why I should not introduce myself to the reader as Ralph Rover.My shipmates were kind, good-natured fellows, and they and I got on very well together.They did, indeed, very frequently make game of and banter me, but not unkindly; and I overheard them sometimes saying that Ralph Rover was a "queer, old-fashioned fellow." This, I must confess, surprised me much, and I pondered the saying long, but could come at no satisfactory conclusion as to that wherein my old-fashionedness lay.It is true I was a quiet lad, and seldom spoke except when spoken to.Moreover, I never could understand the jokes of my companions even when they were explained to me: which dulness in apprehension occasioned me much grief; however, I tried to make up for it by smiling and looking pleased when I observed that they were laughing at some witticism which I had failed to detect.I was also very fond of inquiring into the nature of things and their causes, and often fell into fits of abstraction while thus engaged in my mind.But in all this I saw nothing that did not seem to be exceedingly natural, and could by no means understand why my comrades should call me "an old-fashioned fellow."Now, while engaged in the coasting trade, I fell in with many seamen who had travelled to almost every quarter of the globe; and I freely confess that my heart glowed ardently within me as they recounted their wild adventures in foreign lands, - the dreadful storms they had weathered, the appalling dangers they had escaped, the wonderful creatures they had seen both on the land and in the sea, and the interesting lands and strange people they had visited.

But of all the places of which they told me, none captivated and charmed my imagination so much as the Coral Islands of the Southern Seas.They told me of thousands of beautiful fertile islands that had been formed by a small creature called the coral insect, where summer reigned nearly all the year round, - where the trees were laden with a constant harvest of luxuriant fruit, - where the climate was almost perpetually delightful, - yet where, strange to say, men were wild, bloodthirsty savages, excepting in those favoured isles to which the gospel of our Saviour had been conveyed.These exciting accounts had so great an effect upon my mind, that, when I reached the age of fifteen, I resolved to make a voyage to the South Seas.

I had no little difficulty at first in prevailing on my dear parents to let me go; but when I urged on my father that he would never have become a great captain had he remained in the coasting trade, he saw the truth of what I said, and gave his consent.My dear mother, seeing that my father had made up his mind, no longer offered opposition to my wishes."But oh, Ralph," she said, on the day I bade her adieu, "come back soon to us, my dear boy, for we are getting old now, Ralph, and may not have many years to live."I will not take up my reader's time with a minute account of all that occurred before I took my final leave of my dear parents.

Suffice it to say, that my father placed me under the charge of an old mess-mate of his own, a merchant captain, who was on the point of sailing to the South Seas in his own ship, the Arrow.My mother gave me her blessing and a small Bible; and her last request was, that I would never forget to read a chapter every day, and say my prayers; which I promised, with tears in my eyes, that I would certainly do.

Soon afterwards I went on board the Arrow, which was a fine large ship, and set sail for the islands of the Pacific Ocean.

The departure - The sea - My companions - Some account of the wonderful sights we saw on the great deep - A dreadful storm and a frightful wreck.

IT was a bright, beautiful, warm day when our ship spread her canvass to the breeze, and sailed for the regions of the south.

Oh, how my heart bounded with delight as I listened to the merry chorus of the sailors, while they hauled at the ropes and got in the anchor! The captain shouted - the men ran to obey - the noble ship bent over to the breeze, and the shore gradually faded from my view, while I stood looking on with a kind of feeling that the whole was a delightful dream.

The first thing that struck me as being different from anything Ihad yet seen during my short career on the sea, was the hoisting of the anchor on deck, and lashing it firmly down with ropes, as if we had now bid adieu to the land for ever, and would require its services no more.

"There, lass," cried a broad-shouldered jack-tar, giving the fluke of the anchor a hearty slap with his hand after the housing was completed - "there, lass, take a good nap now, for we shan't ask you to kiss the mud again for many a long day to come!"And so it was.That anchor did not "kiss the mud" for many long days afterwards; and when at last it did, it was for the last time!

There were a number of boys in the ship, but two of them were my special favourites.Jack Martin was a tall, strapping, broad-shouldered youth of eighteen, with a handsome, good-humoured, firm face.He had had a good education, was clever and hearty and lion-like in his actions, but mild and quiet in disposition.Jack was a general favourite, and had a peculiar fondness for me.My other companion was Peterkin Gay.He was little, quick, funny, decidedly mischievous, and about fourteen years old.But Peterkin's mischief was almost always harmless, else he could not have been so much beloved as he was.

"Hallo! youngster," cried Jack Martin, giving me a slap on the shoulder, the day I joined the ship, "come below and I'll show you your berth.You and I are to be mess-mates, and I think we shall be good friends, for I like the look o' you."Jack was right.He and I and Peterkin afterwards became the best and stanchest friends that ever tossed together on the stormy waves.

I shall say little about the first part of our voyage.We had the usual amount of rough weather and calm; also we saw many strange fish rolling in the sea, and I was greatly delighted one day by seeing a shoal of flying fish dart out of the water and skim through the air about a foot above the surface.They were pursued by dolphins, which feed on them, and one flying-fish in its terror flew over the ship, struck on the rigging, and fell upon the deck.

Its wings were just fins elongated, and we found that they could never fly far at a time, and never mounted into the air like birds, but skimmed along the surface of the sea.Jack and I had it for dinner, and found it remarkably good.

When we approached Cape Horn, at the southern extremity of America, the weather became very cold and stormy, and the sailors began to tell stories about the furious gales and the dangers of that terrible cape.

"Cape Horn," said one, "is the most horrible headland I ever doubled.I've sailed round it twice already, and both times the ship was a'most blow'd out o' the water.""An' I've been round it once," said another, "an' that time the sails were split, and the ropes frozen in the blocks, so that they wouldn't work, and we wos all but lost.""An' I've been round it five times," cried a third, "an' every time wos wuss than another, the gales wos so tree-mendous!""And I've been round it no times at all," cried Peterkin, with an impudent wink of his eye, "an' THAT time I wos blow'd inside out!"Nevertheless, we passed the dreaded cape without much rough weather, and, in the course of a few weeks afterwards, were sailing gently, before a warm tropical breeze, over the Pacific Ocean.