arter from which the wind came was neither
favourable nor adverse, being on the beam. Had they had sails for the
boats, it would have been otherwise, but they had been stowed away, and
could not be procured. The sight of land naturally rejoiced them all,
and the seamen in the boat cheered, and double-banked the oars, to
increase their way; but the towing of a large raft sunk under water was
no easy task; and they could not, with all their exertions, advance more
than half a mile an hour.

Until noon they continued their exertions not without success; they were
not three miles from the land; but, as the sun passed the meridian a
change took place; the breeze blew strong; the swell of the sea rose
rapidly; and the raft was often so deeply immersed in the waves as to
alarm them for the safety of those upon her. Their way was
proportionably retarded, and by three o'clock they had not gained half a
mile from where they had been at noon. The men not having had
refreshment of any kind during the labour and excitement of so many
hours, began to flag in their exertions. The wish for water was
expressed by all--from the child who appealed to its mother, to the
seaman who strained at the oar. Philip did all he could to encourage
the men but finding themselves so near to the land, and so overcome with
fatigue, and that the raft in tow would not allow them to approach their
haven they murmured, and talked of the necessity of casting loose the
raft and looking out for themselves. A feeling of self prevailed, and
they were mutinous; but Philip expostulated with them, and out of
respect for him, they continued their exertions for another hour, when a
circumstance occurred which decided the question, upon which they had
recommenced a debate.

The increased swell and the fresh breeze had so beat about and tossed
the raft, that it was with difficulty, for some time, that its occupants
could hold themselves on it. A loud shout, mingled with screams,
attracted the attention of those in the boats, and Philip looking back,
perceived that the lashings of the raft had yielded to the force of the
waves, and that it had separated amidship. The scene was agonising;
husbands were separated from their wives and children--each floating
away from each other--for the part of the raft which was still towed by
the boats had already left the other far astern. The women rose up and
screamed, and held up their children; some, more frantic, dashed