see it on our port bow. We accordingly
hauled up on the port tack. Scarcely had we done so when the weather,
which had lately looked threatening, completely changed. A strong wind
began to blow from the north-west; it rapidly increased, and the sea got
up and began to break over the bows in a way which threatened to swamp
the boat. Three hands baled away together, but even thus we could
scarcely keep the boat free of water.

"We must form a raft to serve as a breakwater," said Mr Griffiths.

We lashed three oars together, the sail was lowered, the boat rounded
to, and the raft, with a stout rope to it, was hove overboard, the rope
being secured to the bows. At the same time the steering-oar was peaked
and fixed into the after-thwart, with the flat of the blade facing the
bows. This served as a sail, and kept the boat's head to the sea.

Thus, with the seas roaring and hissing round us, driving at the rate of
two miles an hour to the southward and west, we prepared to pass the
night, all of us feeling that we might never see another sun rise.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A PERILOUS VOYAGE IN THE WHALE-BOAT.

The night was very dark, the sea rose fearfully high. Now the water
broke over the starboard, now over the port bow, nearly swamping the
boat, and all hands were employed in baling it out. We worked for our
lives, for should another sea come before the boat was clear she might
be swamped. Some of the men cried out that we should not live through
the night.

Mr Griffiths and the doctor cheered them up, but if it hadn't been for
the raft ahead, which broke the seas, I believe that we must have gone
down. I had heard of boats being saved by hanging on under the lee of a
dead whale, but I had not supposed that a few oars lashed together would
have served as an effectual breakwater.

The peaked oar played a most important part by keeping the boat's head
to the wind, and at a sufficient distance from the raft. She must
otherwise have broached to, and it must have been driven against her and
stove in the side.

As soon as the boat was clear of water, Brown sang out, "Now let's have
a stave, lads," and he began to sing, but few were able to join in with
him.

Jim and I tried, knowing Brown's object, but we had scarcely got through
a verse when another sea came roaring on board, nearly carrying over the
men in the bows, and washing away some of our provisions. We all had
immediately to turn to again and