"'Our crew and passenger were nine men--'twas terrible to listen to the cries of the poor fellows, some of whom could swim, and others who could not. Mixed with the hissing of the water and the howlings of the storm, I heard shrieks for mercy, and some that had no meaning but what arose from fear. I struck out to get clear of the crowd, and in a few minutes there was no noise, for most of the men had sunk; and, on turning round, I saw the boat still kept from going down by the wind having got under the sails. I then swam back to her, and assisted an old man to get hold of one of her spars. The boat's side was about three feet under water, and for a few minutes I stood upon her, but I found she was gradually settling down, and when up to my chest I again left her and swam away; and now, for the first time, began to think of my own awful condition. My companions were all drowned, at least I supposed so. How long it was up to this period from the boat's capsizing I cannot exactly say; in such cases, there is _no time_; but now I reflected that it was half-past six P.M. just before the accident occurred; that the nearest land at the time was six miles distant; and that it was dead low water, and the flood tide _setting off the shore_, making to the southward; therefore, should I ever reach the land, it would take me at least fifteen miles setting up with the flood, before the ebb would assist me.' "While Brock was making these calculations, a rush horse collar covered with old netting floated close to him; he laid hold of it, and getting his knife out, he stripped off the net-work, and putting his left arm through, was supported until he had cut the waist band of his _petticoat_ trousers which then fell off: his striped frock, waistcoat and neckcloth, were also similarly got rid of, but he dared not try to free himself of his oiled trousers, drawers, or shirt, fearing that his legs might become entangled in the attempt; he therefore returned his knife into the pocket of his trousers, and put the collar over his head, which, although it assisted in keeping him above water, retarded his swimming; and after a few moments' thinking what was best to be done, he determined to abandon it. He now, to his great surprise, perceived one of his messmates swimming ahead of him; but he did not hail him. The roaring of the hurricane was past; the cries of drowning men were no longer heard; the moonbeams were casting their silvery light over the smooth surface of the deep, calm and silent as the grave over which he floated, and into which he saw this last of his companions descend without a struggle or a cry, as he approached within twenty yards of him. Yes, he beheld the last of his brave crew die beside him; and now he was alone in the cold silence of night, more awful than the strife of the elements which had preceded. Perhaps at this time something might warn him that he too would soon be mingled with the dead; but