Lost in the Fog

it a Reef?-The Truth.-Hoisting Sail.-A forl

me for him to collect his wandering faculties, and arrive at the full recollection of his situation. Gradually it all came before him-the night of horror, the long drift, the frantic struggles, the boom of the surf, the shrill, penetrating tone of the fog hor

nothing to do with these things, but was concerned with something very different from useless retrospect, and somethin

once of the

hey were not harmed; and Tom ate his frugal repast with extreme relish. Satisfying his appetite had the natural effect of cheering his spirits, and led him to reflect with thankfulness on the very fortunate presence of that box of biscuit in the boat. Had it not been fo

ot get a drink, and with successful results. As for Tom, his whole night had been one long

s midday; and this impression was not very much out of the way. His breakfast refreshed him, and he learned now to attach so much value to his box of biscuit, that his chief desire was to save it from furth

recollection of the state of the tide at Petitcodiac, was but vague. He reckoned, however, from the ship launch of the preceding day, and then, allowing sufficien

prospect of escape, he started to his feet, and watched most eagerly the progress of the boat. It was drifting nearer to the rock. Soon another appeared, and then another. The rocks were black, and covered with masses of sea-weed, as though they were submerged at high tide. A little nearer, and he saw a gravelly strand lying just beyond the rocks. His excitement grew stronger and stronger, until at last it was quite uncontrollable. H

s he made no headway, for the boat, at the pressure of the current, pulled so hard that he could not drag it nearer. A terrible fear came to him that the rope might break. Fortunately it did not, and, after a shor

looked

water. Most of them were covered with sea-weed. A few sticks of timber were wedged in the interstices of the nearest rocks. As

me isolated ledge. But where was it, and how far away was the shore? If he could only tell that! He stopped, and listened intently; he walked all around, and listened more intently still, in hopes of hearing the soun

watched intently, and occupied himself with measuring the distance from the rock where his boat was tied. Doing this from time to time, he found that every little while the number of paces between the rock and the water's edge increased. This occupation made the time pass

tself on his convictions, he was not altogether unprepared. Still, the shock was terrible, and once more poor Tom had to struggle with his despair-a despair, too, that was all the more profound from the hopes that he had been entertaining. He found, at length, in addition to this, that the tide was ris

ries there suddenly occurred to him t

o Le

the description that the captain had given. If this were indeed so, and the description were true,-and he could not doubt this,-how desperate his situation was, and how he had been deceived

f the shoal. He got out of the boat, and, securing it, he walked back again. It was some waif that had been drifting about till it was thus cast at his feet. He thought of taking it for a mast, and making use of the sail. The idea was an attractive one. He pulled the sail out, unfolded it, and found it to be the jib of some schooner. He cut off one end of this, and then with his knife began to make a hole in the seat

t direction oug

k coast he thought was nearest, but he dreaded it. It seemed perilous and unapproachable. He did not think much better of the Nova Scotia coast. He thought rather of Cape d'

ly, and with trembling hands, he let the sail unfold, and thrust the board into the water astern. The boat followed the impulse of the wind

and a rude and suddenly extemporized sail, with no other rudder than a bit of board, with no compass, and a surrounding of thick fog, and it would puzzle even an experienced sailor to guide himself aright. Tom soon

ere was quite a commotion astern. Tom thought he was doing very well, and heading as near as possible towards the Petitcodiac. Besides, in his excitement

this feeling. Gradually the darkness grew deeper, until at last it assumed the intense character of the preceding night. But still Tom sat up, and the boat went on. The wind did not slacken, nor did the boat's progress cease. Hours passed by in this way. As to the tid

ded, too, and so he kept wide awake, and his ears were ever on the stretch to hear the slightest sound. But at last the intense e

urse totally different from the one which be intended-a course which depended on the chance of the wind; and one, too, which was varied by the sweep of the

from an opposite direction. How to account for this was at first a mystery, for the fog still prevailed, and the opposite wind could not bring fog. Was it possible that the boat had turned during his sleep? He knew that it was quite possible. Indeed, he believed that this was the case. With t

thing was left but to drift. All that day he drifted, and night came on. Still it continued calm. Tom was weary and worn out, but so intense was his excitement that he could not think of sleep. At midnight the wind sprung u

d his fear of again losing what he had gained, kept sleep from his eyes. All that night he wat

ext morn

s Thu

ifted out, and all that time he ha

ound in despair, and wondered where this would end. Fog was ev

had sprang up fresh, and

ng upright, and u

ich the boat was sailing. At its base the waves were dashing. Over its brow t

ht of his danger. He could not avoid it now, however, for he did not know how to turn

e rope in his hands, walked along the rough and stony beach for about a hundred yards, pulling the boat after him. There the cliff was succeeded by a stee

und here a rough beach. He fastened the boat

box of biscuit, and ove

om was too exhausted to go in search of one. He had not slept for more than thirty hours. The country that he saw was clea

is knees, and offered up a fervent prayer

, and, rolling himself up in