148 
A MOST UNPLEASANT SITUATION. 
posed direction of the ship, but even her smoke was not 
to be seen. Tliere was a smoky appearance, truly, but it 
was that of the rising gale; and, as we wrapped our blan- 
kets around our shivering frames, we knew that there was 
anxiety, and work, and danger, — ^possibly death, — in the 
voice of the leaping waves and in those lurid masses of 
hurrying clouds. 
*‘The water was now coming over the bow quite fast; 
so we commenced baling, served out an extra allowance 
of grog, and continued watching for the ship. 
“And so another and another hour rolled by, and the 
gloom of approaching night began to deepen that of the 
rising gale. Ours was now a most unpleasant situation. 
The water was swashing over either beam at every roll, 
curling over the bow at every dive, and giving us sharp 
work with both buckets to keep it from gaining on us. 
After a while it did gain on us, and men’s faces began to 
turn pale. I felt that things were getting desperate, and, 
adjusting a glass, swept the eastern board in the vain 
hope of catching a glimpse of the expected smoke: there 
was nothing to be seen but a bank of moving mist. 
“Our circle of vision had by this time been narrowed 
down to a diameter of some two miles, and we were just 
fearing that the ship might miss us in the fog, when sud- 
denly, like a meteor shooting into the clear sky from 
behind a passing cloud, she burst through the bank of 
thickening mist into a glorious full view. She was distant 
not more than a mile, was smoking like a young volcano, 
was under a crowd of sail at the same time, and, in short, 
evidently doing her best to reach us. A long-drawn breath 
seemed to relieve every one. A few minutes later we 
