we managed to elude the encroachments of the waves, till about nine, P. M., when a heavy sea, whose death-denoting sound still lingers in my ears, rolled over the larboard quarter, and filled the boat! For a moment we were paralysed, believing that we were going down, without the most distant hope of any one of us being saved. Finding, however, that the boat still floated, we took heart, baled away, and threw every article of no essential importance overboard.
The sea had upset the compass, extinguished the light, and rendered it impossible for us to obtain another; yet we managed, (although the task was difficult) to keep the boat right before the wind. Just as we had got her baled out, she was again filled by another wave. We now determined to hazard the dangerous experiment of taking in the mainsail; this being effected, and the reefed-jib set, we could do no more than quietly submit to the will of Him, who "rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm."
It was fortunate that we acted thus, as not even a spray broke over us afterwards. Often did we expect to be overwhelmed by the following sea, whose dismaying roar seemed a summons to eternity; but our gallant boat behaved beyond all expectation well,—bearing us in safety over the curling summits of the highest waves.
The strength of the wind, and the turbulence of the sea, diminished considerably on the approach of morn, which, although ushered in with clouds and rain, was,
