to our eyes, exceedingly grateful. Uncertainty of the fate of our companions in the skiff excited feelings of intense and painful anxiety; but knowing the skiff to be a fine boat, not overladen, and well managed, we entertained the hope that she had successfully resisted the united force of winds and waves, and that our fellow-sufferers would, in a very short time, reach Melville Island. Consoled, in some degree, by this idea, we hoisted our reefed-mainsail, and pursued our dreary way.
As daylight became perfect, low land was descried bearing to the southward; and apprehensions were entertained that we should not be able to gain our intended port, as it was more than probable that the boat had been driven to the westward; and at noon, we ascertained that such fears were well grounded;—being three miles to the northward, and several to the westward, of Cape Van Dieman. To think of beating back (although the distance was so short,) would have been absurd: we, therefore, without hesitation, directed our course to Timor.
It required great caution, and unremitted care, to keep our trembling boat right before the wind, which, although its fury was much abated, yet blew with sufficient vehemence, and accompanied with a turbulent swell. The heavy showers of rain that fell at short intervals, and the foamy spray, combined to keep us constantly and thoroughly wet. Next day, at noon, we found that we had advanced upwards of one hundred
