It is scarcely possible to describe the sickening awe which came over the party, when they had assured themselves of the fatal facts by further observation.  Everything, however, went to confirm the existence of the dire catastrophe.  These internal fires had wrought a new convulsion, and the labours and hopes of years had vanished in a moment.  The crust of the earth had again been broken; and this time it was to destroy, instead of to create.  The lead gave fearful confirmation of the nature of the disaster, the soundings answering accurately to the known formation of the land in the neighbourhood of the Peak.  But, in the Peak itself, it was not possible to be mistaken:  there it was in its familiar outline, just as it had stood in its more elevated position, when it crowned its charming mountain, and overlooked the whole of that enchanting plain which had so lately stretched beneath.  It might be said to resemble, in this respect, that sublime rock, which is recognised as a part of the “everlasting hills,” in Cole’s series of noble landscapes that is called “the March of Empire;” ever the same amid the changes of time, and civilization, and decay, there it was the apex of the Peak; naked, storm-beaten, and familiar to the eye, though surrounded no longer by the many delightful objects which had once been seen in its neighbourhood.

Saddened, and chastened in spirit, by these proofs of what had befallen the colony, the party returned to the ship.  That night, they remained near the little islet; next day they edged away in the direction of the place where the volcano had formerly risen up out of the waves.  After running the proper distance, the ship was hove to, and her people sounded; two hundred fathoms of line were out, but no bottom was found.  Then the Rancocus bore up for the island which had borne her own name.  The spot was ascertained, but the mountain had also sunk into the ocean.  In one place, soundings were had in ten fathoms water, and here the vessel was anchored.  Next day, when the ship was again got under way, the anchor brought up with it, a portion of the skeleton of a goat.  It had doubtless fallen upon the remains of such an animal, and hooking it with its flukes thus unexpectedly brought once more to the light of day, the remains of a creature that may have been on the very summit of the island, when the earthquake in which it was swallowed, occurred.

The Rancocus next shaped her course in the direction of the group.  Soundings were struck near the western roads, and it was easy enough to carry the vessel towards what had formerly been the centre of those pleasant isles.  The lead was kept going, and a good look-out was had for shoals; for, by this time, Mr. Woolston was satisfied that the greatest changes had occurred at the southward, as in the former convulsion, the group having sunk but a trifle compared with the Peak; nevertheless, every person, as well as thing, would seem to have been engulfed.  Towards evening, however, as the ship was feeling her way to windward with great caution, and when the ex-governor believed himself to be at no great distance from the centre of the group, the look-outs proclaimed shoal-water, and even small breakers, about half a mile on their larboard beam.  The vessel was hove-to, and a boat went to examine the place, Woolston and his friend Betts going in her.