In this time of despair, it occurred to the fourth mate to send a man to
the foremast, hoping, but scarce daring to think it probable, that some
friendly sail might be in sight. The man at the fore-top looked around
him; it was a moment of intense anxiety; then waving his hat, he cried
out, "A sail, on the lee-bow!"

Those on deck received the news with heart-felt gratitude, and answered
with three cheers. Signals of distress were instantly hoisted, and
endeavors used to make towards the stranger, while the minute guns were
fired continuously. She proved to be the brig Cambria, Captain Cook,
master, bound to Vera Cruz, having twenty Cornish miners, and some
agents of the Mining Company on board. For about one quarter of an hour,
the crew of the Kent doubted whether the brig perceived their signals:
but after a period of dreadful suspense, they saw the British colors
hoisted, and the brig making towards them.

On this, the crew of the Kent got their boats in readiness; the first
was filled with women, passengers, and officers' wives, and was lowered
into a sea so tempestuous as to leave small hope of their reaching the
brig; they did, however, after being nearly swamped through some
entanglement of the ropes, get clear of the Kent, and were safely taken
on board the Cambria, which prudently lay at some distance off.

After the first trip, it was found impossible for the boats to come
close alongside of the Kent, and the poor women and children suffered
dreadfully, in being lowered over the stern into them by means of ropes.
Amid this gloomy scene, many beautiful examples occurred of filial and
parental affection, and of disinterested friendship; and many sorrowful
instances of individual loss and suffering. At length, when all had been