ime the squall had passed, the current
had turned against us, and we expected to have to wait till four in the
afternoon, when we intended to enter the harbour.

Now, however, came the climax of our troubles. The swell produced by the
squall made us jerk our cable a good deal, and it suddenly snapped
low down in the water. We drifted out to sea, and immediately set our
mainsail, but we were now without any anchor, and in a vessel so poorly
manned that it could not be rowed against the most feeble current or the
slightest wind, it word be madness to approach these dangerous shores
except in the most perfect calm. We had also only three days' food left.
It was therefore out of the question making any further attempts to get
round the point without assistance, and I at once determined to run
to the village of Gani-diluar, about ten miles further north, where we
understood there was a good harbour, and where we might get provisions
and a few more rowers. Hitherto winds and currents load invariably
opposed our passage southward, and we might have expected them to
be favourable to us now we had turned our bowsprit in an opposite
direction. But it immediately fell calm, and then after a time a
westerly land breeze set in, which would not serve us, and we had to
row again for hours, and when night came had not reached the village. We
were so fortunate, however, as to find a deep sheltered cove where the
water was quite smooth, and we constructed a temporary anchor by filling
a sack with stones from our ballast, which being well secured by a
network of rattans held us safely during the night. The next morning
my men went on shore to cut wood suitable for making fresh anchors,
and about noon, the current turning in our favour, we proceeded to the
village, where we found an excellent and well-protected anchorage.

On inquiry, we found that the head men resided at the other Gani on the
western side of the peninsula, and it was necessary to send messengers
across (about half a day's journey) to inform them of my arrival, and
to beg them to assist me. I then succeeded in buying a little sago, some
dried deer-meat and cocoa-nuts, which at once relieved our immediate
want of something to eat. At night we found our bag of atones still held
us very well, and we slept tranquilly.

The next day (October 12th), my men set to work making anchors and oars.
The native Malay anchor is ingeniously constructed of a piece of tough
forked timber,