My first measure was to lead the jib-stay, which had parted near the head of its own mast, to the head of the main-mast.  This I did by bending on a piece of another rope.  I then got up the halyards, and loosened and set the jib; a job that consumed quite two hours.  Of course, this sail did not set very well, but it was the only mode I had of getting forward canvass on the ship at all.  As soon as the jib was set, in this imperfect manner, I put the helm up, and got the ship before the wind.  I then hauled out the spanker, and gave it sheet.  By these means, aided by the action of the breeze on the hull and spars, I succeeded in getting something like three knots’ way on the ship, keeping off a little northerly, in which direction I felt sensible it was necessary to proceed in quest of the spars.  I estimated the drift of the wreck at a knot an hour, including the good and moderate weather; and, allowing for that of the ship itself, I supposed it must be, by that time, some twelve miles to leeward of me.  These twelve miles I managed to run by noon, when I hauled up sufficiently to bring the wind abeam, heading northwardly.  As the ship would now steer herself, that is as small as it was necessary for me to go, I collected some food, took a glass, and went up into the main-top, to dine, and to examine the ocean.

The anxious, anxious hours I passed in that top!  Not an object of any sort appeared on the surface of the wide ocean.  It seemed as if the birds and the fishes had abandoned me to my loneliness.  I watched and examined the surrounding sea, until my hands were tired with holding the glass, and my eyes became weary with their office.  Fortunately, the breeze stood, though the sea went down fast; giving me every opportunity I could desire of effecting my object.  The ship yawed about a good deal, it is true; but, on the whole, she made a very tolerable course.  I could see by the water that she had a motion of about two knots, for most of the time; though, as the day advanced, the wind began to fall, and her rate of going diminished quite one half.

At length, after passing hours aloft, I went below, to look after things there.  On sounding the pumps, I found ten feet water in the hold; though the upper works were now not at all submerged, and the motion of the vessel was very easy.  That the Dawn was gradually sinking under me, was a fact too evident to be denied; and all the concerns of thir life began to narrow into a circle of some four-and-twenty hours.  That time the ship would probably float,—­possibly a little longer, should the weather continue moderate.  The wind was decreasing still, and, thinking I might have a tranquil night, I determined to pass that time in preparing for the last great change.  I had no will to make—­little to leave, indeed, after my vessel was gone:  for the debt due to John Wallingford would go far towards absorbing all my property.  When his $40,000 were paid, under a forced sale, little, indeed, would be the residue.