ide commenced flowing, the ship was nearly
free of water. The purchases were then manned, and with the assistance
of the rafts the ship gradually righted. The following day, about
half-past two in the morning, the ship was free of water, and had risen
to a careen of 30 deg.; at 3 o'clock she floated into deep water, and was
then anchored. During the forenoon of the same day the ship was towed to
her former anchoring ground off Kuchin. The same night the Harlequin and
Royalist arrived in the river, and a day or two afterwards a brig and
schooner came over with the intention of bidding for the remains of the
ship, and of stocking the officers with clothes and necessaries. This
was a losing speculation, as may be imagined, arising from a report
having been circulated that it was impossible to raise the ship,
whereas, as the reader will perceive, there was very little difficulty
in so doing, nothing but sufficient strength being required.
Our ship, as may be supposed, was in a most filthy state after the late
immersion. Plunging into a river does not clean a vessel, although it
does a man. The decks were literally coated with mud and slime, which
emitted the most foetid odour. Silver spoons, watches, and valuables of
every description, were everywhere strewed about, few of which ever
reached their rightful owners; for the Malays who were employed to clean
the ship had an eye to business, and secreted every thing which was
portable. By dint of great exertion, the ship was in a few days ready to
receive her tanks, guns, and stores, which were embarked by the
Harlequin's boats and boats' crews. She was soon in a forward state, and
an expedition was formed to survey a part of the coast during the
completion of her refitting. The gig and one of the barges were fitted
out for this service, and on August the 13th, at daylight, we left
Kuchin, well armed, and provisioned for ten days. At 10 A. M. we dropped
anchor under the Peak of Santabong, from which the branch of the Sarawak
we were then in derives its name. Here we remained a short time to
refresh the men, who had not ceased tugging at the oar from the time
that we started. The foot of the Santabong mountain is about a quarter
of a mile from the river. It then ascends almost perpendicularly to a
great height, towering far above the neighbouring mountains. Afterwards
it runs seaward for a mile or two, and terminates in a remarkable peak,
which forms the eastern horn of the exte
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