er this that Smeaton thought it wise
to bring his operations for that season to a close. Accordingly, on the
7th November, he visited the Rock, which had been cut into a regular
floor of successive terraces or steps, and was considerably larger in
circumference than the foundation on which Rudyerd's building had
rested. On the 15th the _Buss_ sailed into Plymouth, the men having run
out of provisions, and having been unable to do anything on the Rock.

A great storm raged on the 22nd. On the previous day Smeaton had gone
off in the _Buss_ to attach a buoy to the mooring chains for that
winter. The task was laborious, and when it was completed they found it
impossible to return to Plymouth, owing to the miserable sailing
qualities of their vessel. There was nothing for it but to cast loose
and run before the wind. While doing so they snapt the painter of the
yawl, and lost it.

Thus they were, as it were, cast adrift upon the sea with neither maps,
charts, books, nor instruments to guide them. No alarm, however, was
felt, the neighbouring headlands being bold, and all on board having
previously been at Fowey, to which port Smeaton now gave orders to
steer.

Wet and worn out with labour, he then went below to snatch a few hours'
repose. In the night he was awakened by a tremendous noise overhead.
The men were rushing about the deck, and shouting wildly. He sprang up
without dressing. A voice, exclaiming, "For God's sake heave hard on
that rope if you want to save yourselves!" saluted him as he gained the
deck. Roaring wind, a deluge of rain, and pitch darkness held revel on
the sea; but above the din was heard the dreaded sound of breakers close
under their lee. The jib was split, the mainsail half-lowered, and the
vessel running gunwale under. By vigorous and well-directed action, in
which John Bowden proved himself to be one of those men who are towers
of strength in emergencies, the head of the _Buss_ was brought round,
and the immediate danger averted, but they had no idea where they were,
and when day broke on the 23rd they found themselves out of sight of
land! Their last boat, also, had filled while towing astern, and had to
be cut adrift. At noon, however; they sighted the Land's End--the wind
blowing hard from the nor'-east.

"No chance o' making a British port in this wind with such a vessel,
sir," said John Bowden, touching his cap respectfully to Mr Smeaton.

"As well try to bate to win'ard