THE NARRATIVE OF CHARLES WILKES. 363 
we had long been strangers; the temperature shortly began to fall, 
the breeze to increase, and the weather to become misty. In a few 
hours we were sailing rapidly through the water, with a rising sea, and 
by midnight it was reported that the tender, Flying-Fish, was barely 
visible. I shortened sail, but it was difficult to stop our way; and on 
the morning of the 2nd of January the fog was dense, and the Peacock 
and Porpoise only were in sight; we hove to, and the Peacock and 
Porpoise were ordered to stand east and west, in order to intercept the 
tender, but they returned without success; we also fired guns in hopes 
of being heard. In the afternoon I deemed it useless to wait any 
longer for her, and that I must take the chance of falling in with her 
at Macquarie Island, our first appointed place of rendezvous—a visit to 
which I had flattered myself might have been avoided, but which it 
became necessary now to make. We accordingly proceeded on our 
course for that island, with all sail set. This separation of the tender 
took place in the latitude of 48° §., and she was not again seen until our 
return. The officers and crew were not slow in assigning to the Flying- 
Fish a similar fate with her unfortunate mate the Seagull. Men-o’-war’s 
men are prone to prognosticate evil, and on this occasion they were not 
wanting in various surmises. Woeful accounts were soon afloat of the 
distress the schooner was in when last seen—and this in quite a 
moderate sea. 
The barometer now began to assume a lower range, and the tempera- 
ture to fall below 50°. On the 8rd, the fog continuing very thick, the 
Peacock got beyond hearing of our horns, bells, drums, and guns, and 
was parted with. This, however, I did not now regret so much, as it 
was of little consequence whether we sought one or two vessels at our 
rendezvous, although it might cause a longer detention there. 
The wind was now (5th January) veering rapidly to the north-west, 
with some thunder and lightning, and we in consequence expected the 
wind to haul to the south-west, but, to my surprise, it went back to the 
north-east, with thick rainy weather. This return of the wind to its 
old quarter followed a fall of the barometer to 29°60 in., and in a few 
hours afterwards to 29°30 in., while the weather continued moderate; a 
large number of albatrosses, Port Egmont hens, and petrels were seen. 
For the last few days we were unable to get any observations, but 
on the 6th we were favoured with a sight of the sun, and found ourselves 
in the latitude of 58° 30'S., and longitude 157° 35’ EH. Our variation 
had increased to fifteen and-a-half degrees easterly. This being a fine 
day, we completed our calking and the more effectual securing of the 
ship. At midnight we were about 50 miles from Macquarie Island. 
The morning of the 7th was misty, with squally weather. A heavy 
sea rising, and a strong gale setting in, we lost sight of the Porpotse for 
afew hours. Being unable to see beyond an eighth of a mile, it was 
thought imprudent to run, for fear of passing the island, and we hove to 
