, and by that time the squall was
over, while the wind had flown back to its old quarter--the
northeast--and seemed likely to bide there. Overhead the scud was
flying with more wind than we could feel, and we had cause to be
anxious. The sea would get up, and unless we could set some sort of
sail which would at least serve to keep her head to it, we should
fare badly. Moreover, it was likely enough that the ship was
strained with the wrench of the falling mast.

There was no spare sail on board which we could use in the way of
storm canvas, and the sails of the boat were too small to be of any
use. Nor was there a spar which we could use as mast, save the yard
itself. It must be that or nothing, and time pressed.

I suppose that we might have done better had we the chance, but
what we did now in the haste which the rising sea forced on us, was
to lash the forward end of the yard to the stump of the mast,
without unbending the sail from it. Then we set it up as best we
might with the running rigging, and so had a mightily unhandy
three-cornered sail of doubled canvas. But when we cast off the
lashings which had kept the sail furled while we worked, and
sheeted it home, it brought the ship's head to the wind, and for a
time we rode easily enough.

Then we baled out the water we had shipped, and sought for any leak
there might be. There was none of any account, though the upper
planking of the ship was strained, and the wash of the sea found
its way through the seams now and then. We could keep that under by
baling now and again if it grew no worse.

But in about an hour it was plain that a gale was setting in from
the northeast, and the sea was rising. We must run before it
whether we would or no, and the sooner we put about the better,
crippled as we were. We must go as the gale drove us, and make what
landfall we might, though where that would be we could not tell,
for there was no knowing how far we were from the Norway shore, or
whither we had drifted in the fog.

So we put the ship about, shipping a sea or two as we did so, and
then, with our unhandy canvas full and boomed out as best we could
with two oars lashed together, we fled into the unknown seas to
south and west, well-nigh hopeless, save that of food and water was
plenty.

I have no mind to tell of the next three days. They were alike in
gray discomfort, in the ceaseless wash of the waves that followed
us, and in the fall of the rain. We made terrib