SOME NARROW ESCAPES 
215 
side of the mountain to our boat. The boatswain 
and my boat-steerer did not accompany us, as they 
volunteered to stay there another night, and be 
ready for getting the skins off when the boats were 
sent round next morning. I arrived at the spot 
where we had left our boat and food about two 
o’clock, but, to my surprise, found part of the food 
gone. The schooner I could just make out to the 
southward, about ten miles off, with only her staysail 
set. 
Whilst wondering who could have been at our 
food and water, the boat with S., and the men who 
had accompanied us when we landed the day before, 
pulled round the point and came to us. Their tale 
was that the shipkeeper had made sail and stood 
out to sea without waiting to pick them up, and they 
had been obliged to pull back to the island and 
remain all night. Some were without hats, and one 
was in his shirt-sleeves. They had spent a miserable 
night on the rocks. I asked why they had not pulled 
out to the schooner that morning, as she could be 
seen from the top of the cliff lying with her sails 
down. They said they had not cared to take the 
risk on account of tide-rips and snow-squalls ; they 
might miss her, or the shipkeeper might make sail 
again. As something had to be done, I asked for 
five men to volunteer to go with me. We were soon 
off in the direction of the schooner, pulling five oars. 
Before starting, I told S. if the schooner turned 
up without me to look for us on the next island, 
Matau, as I should not try to get back to Raikoke 
against the wind. As we proceeded, the wind 
dropped to a light breeze, with passing snow-squalls ; 
after nearly three hours’ hard pulling, we got along- 
