Soon our little rag of canvas was torn away, but still we rushed
on before the following seas at a very great speed.
Now I thought of trying to make the land, but found that we could not do
so with the oars, because of the current that set out towards the ocean
against which it was impossible to urge our clumsy craft. Therefore we
must content ourselves with trying to keep her head straight with the
steering oar, but even then we were often whirled round and round.
About two hours after noon the sky clouded over, and there burst upon us
a great thunder-storm with torrents of rain; also the wind grew stronger
and stronger.
Now we could no longer steer or do anything except lie flat upon
the bottom of the _balsa_, gripping the cords with which it was tied
together, to save ourselves from being washed overboard, since often
the foaming crests of the waves broke upon us. Indeed, it was marvellous
that this frail craft should hang together at all, but owing to the
lightness of the reeds and the blown-up skins that were tied in them,
still she floated and, whirling round and round, sped upon her southward
path.
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