The thickness of the night prevented them from ascertaining where they were, but the lead was thrown over the side, and they found that they were lying on shore on a sand bank, with not more than fourteen feet water on the deepest side, and that they were broadside on, with a strong current pressing them further up on the bank; indeed the current ran like a mill-race, and each minute they were swept into shallower water.

On examination they found that the ship had dragged her anchor, which, with the cable, was still taut from the starboard bow, but this did not appear to prevent the vessel from being swept further up on the bank.  It was supposed that the anchor had parted at the shank, and another anchor was let go.

Nothing more could be done till daybreak, and impatiently did they wait till the next morning.  As the sun rose, the mist cleared away, and they discovered that they were on shore on a sand bank, a small portion of which was above water, and round which the current ran with great impetuosity.  About three miles from them was a cluster of small islands with cocoa-trees growing on them, but with no appearance of inhabitants.

“I fear we have little chance,” observed Krantz to Philip.  “If we lighten the vessel the anchor may not hold, and we shall be swept further on, and it is impossible to lay out an anchor against the force of this current.”

“At all events we must try; but I grant that our situation is anything but satisfactory.  Send all the hands aft.”

The men came aft, gloomy and dispirited.

“My lads!” said Philip, “why are you disheartened?”

“We are doomed, sir; we knew it would be so.”

“I thought it probable that the ship would be lost—­I told you so; but the loss of the ship does not involve that of the ship’s company—­nay, it does not follow that the ship is to be lost, although she may be in great difficulty, as she is at present.  What fear is there for us, my men?—­the water is smooth—­we have plenty of time before us—­we can make a raft and take to our boats—­it never blows among these islands, and we have land close under our lee.  Let us first try what we can do with the ship; if we fail, we must then take care of ourselves.”

The men caught at the idea and went to work willingly; the water casks were started, the pumps set going, and everything that could be spared was thrown over to lighten the ship; but the anchor still dragged from the strength of the current and bad holding-ground; and Philip and Krantz perceived that they were swept further on the bank.

Night came on before they quitted their toil, and then a fresh breeze sprung up and created a swell, which occasioned the vessel to beat on the hard sand; thus did they continue until the next morning.  At daylight the men resumed their labours, and the pumps were again manned to clear the vessel of the water which had been started, but after a time they pumped up sand.  This told them that a plank had started, and that their labours were useless; the men left their work, but Philip again encouraged them, and pointed out that they could easily save themselves, and all that they had to do was to construct a raft, which would hold provisions for them, and receive that portion of the crew who could not be taken into the boats.