at could have lived in the storm, for it was still raging high.
The Santuit has seen our signals of distress, and is standing by as near as it is prudent to come in the gale. Twice in the night, I was washed from the wheel, and I usually hold a pretty good grip. Dizziness, from a constant pelting sea made me reel sometimes for a moment. To clear my senses and make sure that the voyage was a fact, and that the iron tank on which we were driving through the waves had in reality a bottom to it somewhere under the sea, was all that I could do and reason out.
The storm goes down by daylight, as suddenly as it came up in the night. And we get in under the lee of a small island for shelter and rest--Ye Gods--a rest!
It was the Island of Caja de Muerties, adjacent to Puerto Rico, which gave us this comfort. Here we cast anchor at 9 A.M. and lay till 8 P.M. of the same day, (December 16th,) when propitious appearances in the heavens, we sailed again on the, now, somewhat irksome voyage. But "the W