when the cry was heard, "Land close ahead!" All hearts sunk with despair; shipwreck and death seemed inevitable. Freycinet alone, after a brief instant of hesitation, recovered his self-command. It was impossible that land could be ahead. He, therefore, kept on his northerly course, bearing a little east, and the correctness of his calculations was soon verified. On the next day but one the weather grew calmer; observations were taken, and as they proved the vessel to have run a great distance from the Bay of Good Success, the commander had to choose between a detention off the coast of South America, or off the Falkland Islands. The island of Conti, the Bay of Marville, and Cape Duras, were successively observed through the haze, whilst a favourable breeze speeded the corvette on her course to Berkeley Sound, fixed on as the best place for the next halt. Mutual congratulations were already being exchanged on the happy termination of the dangerous struggle, and on the fortunate escape from any serious accident during so hazardous a trip. The sailors all rejoiced, to use the words of Byron, that-- "The worst was over, and the rest seemed sure." But a severe trial was still in store for them! On entering Berkeley Sound, every man was at his post, ready to let go the anchor. The look-outs were on the watch, men were stationed in the main-shrouds to heave the lead. Then first at twenty, after at eighteen fathoms, the presence of rocks was reported. The ship was now about half a league off shore, and Freycinet thought it prudent to put her off about two points. This precaution proved fatal, for the corvette suddenly struck violently on a hidden rock. As she struck, the soundings gave fifteen fathoms to starboard, and twelve to larboard. The reef against which the corvette had run, was, therefore, not so wide as the vessel itself; in fact, it was but the pointed summit of a rock. The immediate rising of pieces of wood to the surface of the water at once gave reason for fears that the injury was serious. There was a rush to the pumps. Water was pouring into the hold. Freycinet had sent for a sail, and had it passed under the vessel in such a manner that the pressure of the water forcing it into the leak in a measure stopped it up. But it was of no avail. Although the whole ship's company, officers and sailors alike, worked at the pumps, no more could be done than just keep the water from gaining on the vessel. There was nothing for it but to run her ashore. This decision, painful as it was, had to be carried out, and it was indeed no easy task. On every side the land was girded with rocks, and only at the very bottom of the bay was there a strip of sandy beach favourable for running the ship aground. Meanwhile the wind had become contrary, night was approaching, the vessel was already half full of water. The distress of the commander can be imagined. But there was no alternative, so the vessel was stranded on Penguin Island.