A new idea seized me. Instead of allowing myself to drift out to sea again, I would leave the raft and make a last desperate effort to swim for the shore. A little reflection, however, showed me the hopelessness of making the attempt. In the dark I could not see the smoothest place to steer for, and being weak, stiff, and sore, I felt that I would most likely be dashed to pieces amongst the rocks. Therefore, I decided to stick to my boards, so long as they stuck to me. My feet now began to trouble me very much, and their cold numbness seemed inclined to creep up my legs. I knew I had made a great mistake in taking off my boots. Had I kept them on they would not only have helped to keep my feet warm, but they would also have prevented my feet from being bruised, and battered against the boards, with the action of the water. Besides, I found by experience that whether in the water, or on the raft, my feet were too light, and needed weight to keep them down. My woollen socks—although I was kept continually pulling them up—were of great service in keeping some heat in, and, though it might have been fancy, my white cotton cap kept my head a bit warm. I think I must have drifted about ten miles past, or south-east of Cape Schanck, and was nearly out of sight of the light before the current began to set in again. The sea had by this time moderated a good deal and I was enabled to keep longer resting on my boards. I tried all ways of reclining on the raft but I found it the safest plan to lie on my left side, thus I got a good grip of the crosspiece with my left hand and one of the boards with my right. In this position I had a chance to watch the heavy seas when they were going to break. I now began to get very cold, and every now and then was seized with cramp in both legs. The working of the life-belt caused my body, and also the inside of my arms, to get raw and sore. To make matters worse, I felt terribly thirsty at times, and a sort of drowsiness seemed to steal over me as if tempting me to go to sleep. I, however, fought against the latter feeling, for I had an inward conviction that if I once gave way to sleep I should never wake again. Meanwhile, I kept gradually nearing the Schanck light once more, but as no signs of daylight were yet visible, I began to fear it would never come for me. The pain in my neck through my head hanging over the life-belt, was getting almost unbearable. Now and then, when I got a chance, I propped my head up with my left hand while keeping the elbow resting on the boards. This gave me ease but I dared not do it so often as I wished for fear of being caught unawares and washed off the raft. All of a sudden I saw a light flashing away in the direction where I deemed Port Phillip Heads would be. My first thought was that it must be a search-light to find out our whereabouts. I kept anxiously watching, but as it did not again appear I came to the conclusion that it had been a