that our afflictions will soon be ended, though we are running
rapidly across the track of both outward and inward bound vessels,
and away from them; our chief hope is a whaler, man-of-war, or some
Australian ship. The isles we are steering for are put down in
Bowditch, but on my map are said to be doubtful. God grant they may
be there!
Hardest day yet.—Captain's Log.
Doubtful! It was worse than that. A week later they sailed straight over them.
(Diary entry) June 2. Latitude 18 degrees 9 minutes. Squally,
cloudy, a heavy sea.... I cannot help thinking of the cheerful and
comfortable time we had aboard the 'Hornet.'
Two days' scanty supplies left—ten rations of water apiece and a
little morsel of bread. BUT THE SUN SHINES AND GOD IS MERCIFUL.
—Captain's Log.
(Diary entry) Sunday, June 3. Latitude 17 degrees 54 minutes.
Heavy sea all night, and from 4 A.M. very wet, the sea breaking
over us in frequent sluices, and soaking everything aft,
particularly. All day the sea has been very high, and it is a
wonder that we are not swamped. Heaven grant that it may go down
this evening! Our suspense and condition are getting terrible. I
managed this morning to crawl, more than step, to the forward end of
the boat, and was surprised to find that I was so weak, especially
in the legs and knees. The sun has been out again, and I have dried
some things, and hope for a better night.
June 4. Latitude 17 degrees 6 minutes, longitude 131 degrees 30
minutes. Shipped hardly any seas last night, and to-day the sea has
gone down somewhat, although it is still too high for comfort, as we
have an occasional reminder that water is wet. The sun has been out
all day, and so we have had a good drying. I have been trying for
the last ten or twelve days to get a pair of drawers dry enough to
put on, and to-day at last succeeded. I mention this to show the
state in which we have lived. If our chronometer is anywhere near
right, we ought to see the American Isles to-morrow or next day. If
there are not there, we have only the chance, for a few days, of a
stray ship, for we cannot eke out the provisions more than five or
six days longer, and our strength is failing very fast. I was much
surprised to-day to note how my legs have wasted away above my
knees: they are hardly thicker than my upper arm used to be. Still,
I trust in God's infinite mercy, and feel sure he will do what is
best for us. To survive, as we have done, thirty-two days in an
open boat, with only about ten days' fair provisions for thirty-one
men in the first place, and these divided twice subsequently, is
more than mere unassisted HUMAN art and strength could have
accomplished and endured.
Bread and raisins all gone.—Captain's Log.
Men growing dreadfully discontented, and awful grumbling and
unpleasant talk is arising. God save us from all strife of men; and
