pervaded the minds of her former crew.
They had grown to feel for that embarkation,--frail and grotesque as it
was,--a sort of attachment; such as one may have for a loved home. To
them it had been a home in the midst of the wilderness of waters; and
they could not part from it without a strong feeling of regret.

Perhaps it was partly for this reason they did not at once dip their
oars into the water and row away from the raft; though they had another
reason for lingering in its proximity.

The mast had to be "stepped" in the gig and the sail bent on to it; and,
as it seemed better that these things should be done at once, they at
once set about doing them.

During the time they were thus engaged, the boat drifted on with the
breeze, making two or three knots to the hour. But this caused no
separation between the two crafts; for the same breeze carried the
dismantled raft--now lying light upon the water--at the like rate of
speed; and when at length the mast stood amidships in the gig, and the
sailyard was ready to be hauled up to it, there was scarce a cable's
length between them.

The _Catamaran_ was astern, but coming on at a fair rate of speed,--as
if determined not to be left behind in that lone wilderness of waters!

CHAPTER NINETY FOUR.

A "SCHOOL" OF SPERM-WHALES.

To all appearance the hour had arrived when they were to look their last
on the embarkation that had safely carried them through so many dangers.
In a few minutes their sail would be spread before a breeze, that would
impel their boat at a rapid rate through the water; and in a short time
they would see no more of the _Catamaran_, crawling slowly after them.
A few miles astern, and she would be out of sight,--once and forever.

Such was their belief, as they proceeded to set the sail.

Little were they thinking of the destiny that was before them. Fate had
not designed such a sudden separation; and well was it for them that the
_Catamaran_ had clung so closely upon their track, as still to offer
them an asylum,--a harbour of refuge to which they might retreat,--for
it was not long before they found themselves in need of it.

As stated, they were proceeding to set the sail. They had got their
rigging all right,--the canvas bent upon the yard, the halliards rove,
and everything except hauling up and sheeting home.

These last operations would have been but the work of six seconds, and
yet they were never performed.

As the sailor