water out of a boat in a very short time; and within five or
ten minutes the first imminent danger of sinking was over. Bowsher,
who was a good swimmer and had not been seriously hurt by the boom,
climbed back into the boat; we cut away the standing rigging, freed
the sloop from the tangle of cordage, and got the water-soaked
mainsail on board; and then, tying a corner of this sail to the stump
of the mast, we spread it as well as we could, so that it would catch
a little wind and give the boat steerage-way. Under the influence of
this scrap of canvas the sloop swung slowly around, across the seas;
the water ceased to come into her; and wringing out our wet caps and
clothing, we began to breathe more freely.

When the first excitement of the crisis had passed and I recovered
my self-possession, I tried to estimate, as coolly as possible, our
prospects and our chances. The situation seemed to me almost hopeless.
We were in a dismasted boat, without oars, without a compass, without
a morsel of food or a mouthful of water, and we were being blown out
to sea in a heavy north-easterly gale. It was so dark that we could
not see the land on either side of the constantly widening gulf; there
was no sign of the _Onward_; and in all probability there was not
another vessel in any part of the Okhotsk Sea. The nearest land was
eight or ten miles distant; we were drifting farther and farther away
from it; and in our disabled and helpless condition there was not the
remotest chance of our reaching it. In all probability our sloop would
not live through the night in such a gale; and even should she remain
afloat until morning, we should then be far out at sea, with nothing
to eat or drink, and with no prospect of being picked up. If the wind
should hold in the direction in which it was blowing, it would carry
us past the _Onward_ at a distance of at least three miles; we had no
lantern with which to attract the attention of the ship's watch, even
should we happen to drift past her within sight; the captain did not
know that we were coming off to the bark that night, and would not
think of looking out for us; and so far as I could discover, there was
not a ray of hope for us in any direction.

How long we drifted out in black darkness, and in that tumbling,
threatening, foam-crested sea, I do not know. It seemed to me many
hours. I had a letter in my pocket which I had written the day before
to my mother, and which I had intended to