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dead against us from the east. Bitter cold. Days much shorter. Arctic winter coming on.

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Tuesday, 10th.-Gale became worse and worse, and drove us far to leeward. Waves mountains high. Took in all sail and lashed the tiller to leeward. Nothing more to do.

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Wednesday, 11th.-Dark and dismal. Same howling, whistling, fierce wind. Let out the floating anchor."

It was remarkable how well our craft behaved, and how bravely, without once giving over, she met the wild sea. The present gale was equal to the first, waves as high but, if anything, less violent, and we saved our gunwale from all further loss. But now,

"The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast,"

for the snow which had been threatening fell at last, and some of it remained upon the rigging.

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Thursday, 12th.-Eight days have we been

going without the sun, or a sight of any sail whatever but our own. Sky clouded since yesterday week, but to-day the violence of the wind lifted the curtain a few hours." It will easily be understood we did not exactly know, at this time, in what part of the high seas we were; we went by and entirely depended on dead reckoning, compass, log and chart, unable to allow correctly for lee-way, current, or the variation of the needle which in the vicinity of Iceland is very great; and in the present instance, were unable also to find our latitude by quadrant, since there was no sun. We knew the Faroe Islands were still to windward, but could only conjecture they were to south-east, because in that part of the sky a certain appearance of the clouds was similar to what I had seen once before, when touching at those islands, like a pile of plates, one cloud above the other, each protruding, with a shadow in between. Otherwise, we were entirely out of reckoning as to the present course, whether it would be to north

of Faroe or to south; in which latter case it lay between Faroe and Shetland, so that I began to look out in south-east one evening for the lighthouse of Muckle Flugga, which stands upon a rock of the British Islands, at the extreme north end of Shetland. Two years previously to this, the present writer had been weather-bound one day upon the coast of Shetland, near the village of Ollaberry, and in the same house was a little boy, intended for the sea; a song, written out from memory for his special benefit, but only half remembered now, may properly come in here:

"Yet I have seen the angry waves,

Like giants in their might,

O'erwhelm the best and bravest hearts,

And bear them from my sight.

But, oh! I do not seek to change
The scene-whate'er it be-

For never did I once regret

When first I went to sea.

Oh! I have kept the midnight watch
Beneath a starry sky,

And listened to the legends wild

That landsmen so decry:

For on the deep and mystic sea
There is a sacred spell,

Which none but sailors know and fear,
And none but them can tell.

I care not, they may scoff at us
Who safe in harbour sleep,
But ne'er can he forget his God,
Who dwells upon the deep!
A moment, and his dwelling-place
The sailor's grave may be,
But never did I once regret

When first I went to sea."

During the present heavy seas, on one occasion, when I was the only hand on deck and lying down in full waterproof, the sea washing clean overboard first covered, then lifted, and a few feet farther on deposited, the present writer; "a little farther," as the gunwale was somewhat lower than one's knee, and the only hand on deck might have "fared worse."

"Friday, 13th.-Gale evidently spent-fourth day. Lovely sky. Towards evening a favourable breeze, and first appearance of the moon.

"Saturday, 14th.-Gale from the west. Our

hopes are like the billows, rising high. Have been going at full speed, nine knots. Saw a stormy petrel; laughed at it.

"Sunday, 15th.-Began quite calm. Passed the meridian at four P.M., and entered the German Ocean, sailing satisfactorily." Night before last, as we suppose, or between Friday and Saturday, we passed the isles of Faroe, but they did not come in view. On Sunday afternoon, in less than two days later, the meridian of Greenwich; and what is not generally known, at least not taught in English schools, this, among northern nations, is the boundary between the Atlantic and German Oceans; all on the west of this line being the Atlantic, all on the east the German Ocean, or North Sea.

Our log now told us more or less where we were, so as to enable us to estimate, not only the exact distance the vessel had been driven back, but in this way her very longitude; now east, whereas it had hitherto been west. Our clock

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