That night and next day, light and baffling winds and but little progress.  Hard to bear, that persistent standing still, and the food wasting away.  ’Everything in a perfect sop; and all so cramped, and no change of clothes.’  Soon the sun comes out and roasts them.  ’Joe caught another dolphin to-day; in his maw we found a flying-fish and two skipjacks.’  There is an event, now, which rouses an enthusiasm of hope:  a land-bird arrives!  It rests on the yard for awhile, and they can look at it all they like, and envy it, and thank it for its message.  As a subject of talk it is beyond price—­a fresh new topic for tongues tired to death of talking upon a single theme:  Shall we ever see the land again; and when?  Is the bird from Clipperton Rock?  They hope so; and they take heart of grace to believe so.  As it turned out the bird had no message; it merely came to mock.

May 16, ‘the cock still lives, and daily carols forth his praise.’  It will be a rainy night, ’but I do not care if we can fill up our water-butts.’

On the 17th one of those majestic spectres of the deep, a water-spout, stalked by them, and they trembled for their lives.  Young Henry set it down in his scanty journal with the judicious comment that ’it might have been a fine sight from a ship.’

From Captain Mitchell’s log for this day:  ’Only half a bushel of bread-crumbs left.’ (And a month to wander the seas yet.’)

It rained all night and all day; everybody uncomfortable.  Now came a sword-fish chasing a bonito; and the poor thing, seeking help and friends, took refuge under the rudder.  The big sword-fish kept hovering around, scaring everybody badly.  The men’s mouths watered for him, for he would have made a whole banquet; but no one dared to touch him, of course, for he would sink a boat promptly if molested.  Providence protected the poor bonito from the cruel sword-fish.  This was just and right.  Providence next befriended the shipwrecked sailors:  they got the bonito.  This was also just and right.  But in the distribution of mercies the sword-fish himself got overlooked.  He now went away; to muse over these subtleties, probably.  The men in all the boats seem pretty well; the feeblest of the sick ones (not able for a long time to stand his watch on board the ship) ‘is wonderfully recovered.’  This is the third mate’s detected ‘Portyghee’ that raised the family of abscesses.

     Passed a most awful night.  Rained hard nearly all the time, and
     blew in squalls, accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning from
     all points of the compass.—­Henry’s Log.

     Most awful night I ever witnessed.—­Captain’s Log.

Latitude, May 18, 11 degrees 11 minutes.  So they have averaged but forty miles of northing a day during the fortnight.  Further talk of separating.  ‘Too bad, but it must be done for the safety of the whole.’  ’At first I never dreamed, but now hardly shut my eyes for a cat-nap without conjuring up something or other—­to be accounted for by weakness, I suppose.’  But for their disaster they think they would be arriving in San Francisco about this time.  ’I should have liked to send B—–­the telegram for her birthday.’  This was a young sister.