ed the heart-breaking efforts made by a slave to obtain his
freedom. How bloodhounds were put upon his track; how he is at last
cornered in a swamp, and as he looks helplessly up at the stars he asks
himself, "Is it life, or is it death?" As I hung on to the little dug-
out, chilled to the very marrow, and more than half drowned by the
enormous seas, I recalled the whole poem and applied the slave's remarks
to myself. "Can it be possible," I said, "after all the struggles I have
made against varying fortune, that I am to meet death now?" I was in
absolute despair. Towards the early hours of the morning Yamba advised
me to get into the canoe for a spell, but she herself remained hanging on
to the gunwale, trying to keep the head of the little canoe before the
immense waves that were still running. I was very cold and stiff, and
found it difficult to climb aboard. As the morning advanced, the sea
began to abate somewhat, and presently Yamba joined me in the canoe. We
were, however, unable to shape our course for any set quarter, since by
this time we were out of sight of land altogether, and had not even the
slightest idea as to our position.

All that day we drifted aimlessly about, and then, towards evening, a
perfect calm settled on the sea. When we were somewhat rested we paddled
on in a direction where we concluded land must lie (we steered south-east
for the main); and in the course of a few hours we had the satisfaction
of seeing a little rocky island, which we promptly made for and landed
upon. Here we obtained food in plenty in the form of birds; but drinking-
water was not to be found anywhere, so we had to fall back on the small
stock we always carried in skins. Judging from the appearance of the
rocks, and the smell that pervaded the place, I imagined that this must
be a guano island. I now knew that we were near Port Darwin, _but as a
fact we had passed it in the great storm_, _while we were fighting for
our lives_. We slept on the island that night, and felt very much better
next morning when we started out on our voyage once more, visiting every
bay and inlet. Hope, too, began to reassert itself, and I thought that
after all we might be able to reach Port Darwin in spite of the distance
we must have been driven out of our course. Several islands studded the
sea through which we were now steadily threading our way, and that
evening we landed on one of these and camped for the night. Next day we