In A Short Space Of Time A Most Dangerous Sea Arose, And On Several
Occasions The Waves Broke Against The Arched Covering Of The Canoe,
Which Happily Protected Her In A Slight Degree, Although We Were
Drenched With Water.
Every one was at work baling with all their might; I had no idea that
the canoe could live.
Down came the rain in torrents, swept along with a
terrific wind; nothing was discernible except the high cliffs looming
through the storm, and I only trusted that we might arrive upon a sandy
beach, and not upon bluff rocks. We went along at a grand rate, as the
arched cover of the canoe acted somewhat as a sail; and it was an
exciting moment when we at length neared the shore, and approached the
foaming breakers that were rolling wildly upon (happily) a sandy beach
beneath the cliffs. I told my men to be ready to jump out the moment
that we should touch the sand, and to secure the canoe by hauling the
head up the beach. All were ready, and we rushed through the surf, the
native boatmen paddling like steam engines. "Here comes a wave; look
out!" and just as we almost touched the beach, a heavy breaker broke
over the black women who were sitting in the stern, and swamped the
boat. My men jumped into the water like ducks, and the next moment we
were all rolled in confusion on the sandy shore. The men stuck well to
the boat, and hauled her firmly on the sand, while my wife crawled out
of her primitive cabin like a caddis worm from its nest, half drowned,
and jumped upon the shore.
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