114 THREE DAYS AND THREE NIGHTS ON BOARD A STEAMER. 



siiice, and would hardly know tliem even if we were to meet. Some of 

 them, doubtless, found a watery grave, as several of the vessels that le 

 that bay next day were never more heard of. The steward found an 

 old pack of cards, and we sat down to play, first one game and then 

 another, until two in the morning, when we agreed to give it up for 

 the ni"lit. Upon then going on deck, we found that the weather had 

 entirely changed : the moon was bright ; the sky was clear, and 

 studded with thousands of sparkling stars ; the bay appeared one quiet 

 sheet of glass, broken only by the dark hulls of the many wind-bound 

 ships that sought a shelter in her bosom. We wrapped ourselves up in 

 our cloaks, and lay down upon the deck on our backs, and, contemplating 

 the scene above, contrasting the calmness of this night with the rough- 

 ness of the former, fell fast asleep, and awakened not until aroused by 

 the hoisting of the anchor at eight bells. 



Upon getting out of the bay, we found the wind blowing still right 

 a-head. We had also a considerable fall of snow, and the air became 

 piercing cold. It appeared, as we laboured against the wind for the 

 forenoon, that we were never destined to reach our port ; we got 

 wearied of the cold wind, and descending below stuffed up all the 

 cabin windows, and, filling the stove full of coals, wrapped our cloaks 

 around us, and had soon the satisfaction of making it comfortable. Din- 

 ner was now out of the question, as we had not wherewithal to make a 

 dinner of; so, contenting ourselves with a lunch, we lay down and fell 

 fast asleep ; nor did we wake until three in the afternoon, when we 

 found ourselves entering Belfast Loch. We then fully expected to land 

 that night, but the fog closed around us, and we were at seven o'clock 

 at night obliged again to cast anchor, although we knew we could not 

 be more than four miles from Belfast. We endeavoured, by shouting, to 

 get a boat to come oft' from the shore, but to no purpose. About ten 

 o'clock at night, the fog cleared away, and we could distinctly see the 

 lights on the quay. We then offered the sailors of the steamer a hand- 

 some fare to take us up. The captain said, they might take the boat if 

 they liked. They said that nothing but necessity could tempt them to 

 venture upon such a dangerous place as Belfast Loch at night in a 

 small boat. We were obliged to content ourselves in our billet, and 

 pass the evening the best way we could, by relating hair-breadth 

 escapes and perils by sea and land, until the drowsy god arrived about 

 ten in the morning, and clasped us in his arms. When we awoke, the 

 sun was shining brightly, and we were moored at Belfast Quay in safety. 



