ages soon retreating, without losses on either
side. To increase their fear, the colonists pursued them a little way,
shouting and firing. Then, thanking God for their deliverance, they
embarked and went up the west shore northward.

It was an uninviting coast. But Robert Coppin encouraged them in the
hope of reaching before dark that harbor he had visited, though these
were the shortest days of the year and thick weather was setting in
fast, followed by snow and rain in the afternoon, a south-east storm
rising. Their rudder broke under the strain, and two men were required
to steer with oars the heavy shallop, which someone has considered as
about thirty feet in length. It was shelterless, without deck or house.

Finally their pilot gave the cheering news that he could discern the
harbor. As the daylight was lessening and the tempest increasing, they
risked too much sail with the intention of clearing the rocks at the
entrance while they could see. Suddenly the overburdened mast snapped in
three pieces and the sail went overboard, nearly capsizing the little
vessel. Righting her quickly, and riding in by the oars with the tide
aiding, their guide, however, failed to recognize the place in the
deepening twilight. Trying to run ashore in the cove of Saquish, the
breakers were so huge and thunderous there, that a seaman, wisely
foreseeing disaster, protested and they turned away. But soon was heard
a gentler wash against some protected beach, to which the oarsmen
pulled. Grounding the keel, some of them gladly leaped out, feeling with
inexpressible relief the solid strand beneath their feet. The others,
remembering the encounter of early morning, remained in the shallop till
after midnight, when a bitter clearing wind drove them ashore to the
fire which their fellows had managed to kindle. There they all awaited
the dawn.

With the welcome day the north-west wind went down, and the sun added
its warmth to the fire. They were pleased to find themselves upon an
island, and they used that Saturday to dry out their soaked belongings
and prepare their muskets, while taking a good look at the harbor. On a
rock upon this Clarke's Island, are the words inscribed from their
record, "On the Sabboth day wee rested." And with grateful joy they held
their customary service, in the shelter of the boulder.

Monday they sounded the harbor, as Bradford relates, and found it fit
for shipping. Then they landed, bringing the boat by a lar