boats that ever swam, and we felt as secure as if we were on
board of a three-decked ship. As the night advanced, so did the wind
increase and the sea rise; lightning darted through the dense clouds,
and for a moment we could scan the horizon. Everything was threatening;
yet our boat, with the wind about two points free, rushed gallantly
along, rising on the waves like a sea-bird, and sinking into the hollow
of the waters as if she had no fear of any attempt on their part to
overwhelm her. Thus did we continue to run on during the night, every
hour the gale increasing, the billows mounting up until they broke in
awful and majestic crests, and often so near to us that we presented our
backs in a close file against the weather bulwarks to prevent any body
of water from pouring in.

"We shall have light soon," observed one of the men.

"And we shall want it to beach the boat in such weather as this,"
replied another. "We shall have it harder yet before day."

"Depend upon it this will be a mischievous gale," observed Bramble, "and
our coast will be strewed with wrecks. Any ships under canvas now,
between the Channel shores, will stand but a poor chance against this
heavy sea, which bears down with such force. I'd rather be in this boat
now than in any vessel in mid-Channel."

"And I had rather be on shore than in either," rejoined I.

"Well, Tom," said one of the pilots, "I do really believe you this
time."

When it was broad daylight, the coast to leeward presented a wild and
terrific scene, lashed as it was by the furious surf, which dashed its
spray half-way up the towering white cliffs, for it was within two hours
of high water. The waves were now really mountains high, and their broad
surfaces were pitted into little waves by the force of the wind, which
covered the whole expanse of waters with one continued foam. On our
weather bow a vessel with her foremast gone was pitching heavily, and at
times nearly buried beneath the wild tumult. Her fate was sealed; to
leeward were the cliffs of the South Foreland, and on our lee-bow lay
the shelving beach of Deal.

"This will be awkward landing, shipmates," said Bramble; "and yet we
must try it. I'll fill my pipe--hope it won't be the last."

Although not said in a serious manner, there were few of us whose hearts
did not flutter responsively to this surmise, for the danger became
every minute more imminent, and we knew what a terrific surf there must
be then running