ted to sight before keeping
away north-west for the Caroline Archipelago, for there was a long
stretch between, and I was not too brilliant a navigator.

CHAPTER X

However, we were not to see Makin Island, for about midnight the wind
chopped round to the north--right ahead--and by daylight we had to reef
down and keep away for the south point of Apaian, in the hope that by
running along the east coast for a few miles we might get shelter. But
we found it impossible to anchor owing to the heavy sea running; neither
could we turn back and make for our former anchorage, which was now
exposed to the full strength of the wind and sweep of the sea. We
certainly could make the passage at the north end of Tarawa--near the
Island of the Bloody Eye--and run into the lagoon, where we should be
in smooth water; but we did not want to go back to Tarawa, under any
circumstances--my own pride, quite apart from my companions' feelings,
would not let me entertain that idea for an instant. To attempt to beat
back round the south point of Apaian, and get into Apaian Lagoon would
be madness, for the sea in the straits was now running mountains high,
owing to a strong westerly current, and the wind was steadily increasing
in violence; and even had it not been so, and we could have got inside
easily, would either Lucia or myself have cared to avail ourselves of
its security. For Bob Randall, the trader there, would be sure to board
us, and Bob Randall, one of the straightest, decentest white men that
ever trod in shoe leather, would wonder what Mrs. Krause was doing in
Jim Sherry's boat! He and I had never met, but he knew both Krause and
Mrs. Krause. No, I thought, that would never do.

All this time we were hugging the land as near as we could, first on
one tack, then on the other, hoping that the weather would moderate, but
hoping in vain, for the sky was now a dull leaden hue, and the sea was
so bad, even in our somewhat sheltered situation, that we were all more
or less sea-sick. I got my chart and studied the thing out. Sixty miles
due south of us was Maiana Lagoon--a huge square-shaped atoll, into
which we might run, and have the boat plundered by the natives to a
certainty. That was no good. No, if the gale did not moderate, there was
but one course open to me--to run before it for Apamama, a hundred and
thirty miles to the S.S.E., which meant two hundred and sixty miles
of sailing before we laid a course for the N.W. And th