fathoms further away from her. Scarcely had we done
so, when, with one wild and fearful scream from those on board of her,
she rushed down into the depths below, nearly taking us with her. For
a while we sat silent, for our horror overwhelmed us, but when the
whirlpool which she made had ceased to boil, we rowed back to where the
carak had been. Now all the sea was strewn with wreckage, but among it
we found only one child living that had clung to an oar. The rest,
some two hundred souls, had been sucked down with the ship and perished
miserably, or if there were any still living, we could not find them in
that weltering sea over which the darkness was falling.

Indeed, it was well for our own safety that we failed in so doing, for
the little boat had ten souls on board in all, which was as many as she
could carry--the priest and I being the only men among them. I have said
that the darkness was falling, and as it chanced happily for us, so was
the sea, or assuredly we must have been swamped. All that we could
do was to keep the boat's head straight to the waves, and this we did
through the long night. It was a strange thing to see, or rather to
hear, that good man the priest my companion, confessing the women one
by one as he laboured at his oar, and when all were shriven sending up
prayers to God for the salvation of our souls, for of the safety of our
bodies we despaired. What I felt may well be imagined, but I forbear
to describe it, seeing that, bad as was my case, there were worse ones
before me of which I shall have to tell in their season.

At length the night wore away, and the dawn broke upon the desolate sea.
Presently the sun came up, for which at first we were thankful, for we
were chilled to the bone, but soon its heat grew intolerable, since we
had neither food nor water in the boat, and already we were parched with
thirst. But now the wind had fallen to a steady breeze, and with the
help of the oars and a blanket, we contrived to fashion a sail that drew
us through the water at a good speed. But the ocean was vast, and we
did not know whither we were sailing, and every hour the agony of thirst
pressed us more closely. Towards mid-day a child died suddenly and was
thrown into the sea, and some three hours later the mother filled a
bailing bowl and drank deep of the bitter water. For a while it seemed
to assuage her thirst, then suddenly a madness took her, and springing
up she cast herself overboard and