of
Sumatra. It was nowhere to be seen; and glancing back, to their
disappointment they observed the Nicobar Islands not more than eight
leagues distant, showing that they had been pulling against a strong
current. The wind again freshening on the 18th, they made better way.
Dampier observed, however, a large circle round the sun, which caused
him much anxiety, as it was the indication of a coming gale; yet he made
no remark, lest he should discourage his companions. He observed, too,
that should the wind, which was already strong, become more violent,
they must steer away before it, and probably be driven sixty or seventy
leagues to the coast of Queda, on the Malayan peninsula.

The wind came as expected. At first, by decreasing the sail, they
attempted to keep to the wind, but the outriggers bent so fearfully that
there was a fear of their breaking, in which case the canoe must have
been overturned, and all on board have perished. They were, therefore,
compelled, about one o'clock in the afternoon, to put right before the
wind and sea. The wind continued increasing; the sea still swelled
higher, and often broke, but striking the back of the helmsman, it was
prevented from coming on board in sufficient quantities to endanger the
vessel, but they were compelled to keep baling continually.

The evening of the 18th was very dismal: the sky looked black, being
covered with dark clouds; the wind blew hard, and the seas ran high,
roaring loudly, and covered with white foam. A dark night was coming
on, no land in sight to cheer them, and the little bark in danger of
being swallowed up by every wave; and what was worse than all, was, as
Dampier confesses, none of them thought themselves prepared for another
world. "I had been in many imminent dangers before now, but the worst
of them all was but a plaything in comparison with this. Other dangers
came not upon me with such a leisurely and dreadful solemnity. The
sudden skirmish or engagement, also, was nothing when once blood was up,
and pushed forward with eager expectations. But here I had a lingering
view of approaching death, and little or no hopes of escaping it. My
courage, which I had hitherto kept up, failed me. I made many sad
reflections on my former life, and looked back with horror and
detestation to actions which before I disliked, but now I trembled at
the remembrance of. I had long before this repented me of that roving
course of life, but never wit