vantage of every opportunity to roll gunwale under, but we kept her well before the wind, and although she shipped more water than was pleasant, on the whole we were not disposed to find fault with her performance. After we had run some six miles out of our course the squall abated, and although wet to the skin, at all events we were right side uppermost. "The Coffin" was not so bad a sea-boat after all! She wanted baling, though, for the water had penetrated into the locker, and damaged the provisions; to what extent we could not then ascertain, but when consuming them I recollect they had a disagreeable salty flavour, and that our sugar was transformed into treacle.
See page 698.
Soon the stars shone out brightly, the wind shifted off the land, and a gentle breeze laden with the aroma of myrtle and mimosa wafted us under the shores of French Island. We determined to take advantage of the first practicable opening in the mangroves and to land at once. Fortunately it was high water, and finding a convenient spot, with a little careful piloting and a few hearty strokes of the oars, we were soon high and dry on the muddy beach. After securing the boat, we set to work and gathered a pile of drift wood and withered grass. A cheerful blaze soon lighted up the landscape. We were only too glad to dry ourselves, "all standing," becoming for the time animated clothes-horses. The light of the fire, however, revealed the fact that we had not been altogether fortunate in pitching upon that particular spot, for it was very low ground, and long lines of sea-weed showed that during spring tides it was partially covered with water. A sand hill at no great distance, to which in case of necessity we might retreat, relieved our minds on this score. An inviting hillock nearer seemed formed by nature for our accommodation, and having taken from our stores such as we needed for the night's consumption, we made everything comfortable and pitched our camp. We rigged up the sail with the mast and oars, and were soon on the broad of our backs, with the Southern Cross overhead, smoking and making light of our mischances. Oh, for the buoyant heart again of one-and-twenty, when there was no such word as hardship in our dictionary, and enough afforded us more satisfaction than all the superfluities of after years.
"Man never is, but always to be blessed."
