Before we returned to breakfast we had decided to anticipate matters by
going ahead of the ship. We quietly laid in a small supply of food and
appeared at the cabin table like good and obedient boys. Incidentally,
one of us asked the captain if it would be easy to row into port, and he
replied that it would be very risky to attempt it; it was a long way,
and the wind or a squall might get up at any moment, or the tide might
be contrary, and he positively forbade us to entertain any such idea.
All this, however, only increased our desire for the "lark," as we
called it, and about 9 o'clock, having rowed about quietly for a while,
we suddenly bade good-bye to the "Mary Anne" and steered straight for
the Heads, where we had been told Port Lyttelton lay. Our crew consisted
of Smith, the two Leaches, C----, and myself, with a man named Kelson,
who was a good oarsman, and we thought he would be useful as an extra
hand, but he had no notion of our freak when we started, and was
considerably chagrined when he discovered our real intention; he had a
young wife on board, whom he feared would be in distress about him.

For some time we pulled away manfully, but at length began with some
dismay to notice two facts, one, that we were losing sight of the ship,
and the other that the hills did not appear to be any nearer!

Some one suggested returning, but as that would have looked like funk,
it was overruled, and we went to the oars with renewed vigour. After
some hours pulling we had the satisfaction to find that although the
masts of the ship were scarcely visible we were certainly drawing nearer
to the land, and could occasionally distinguish waves breaking on the
rocks. The coast apparently was quite uninhabited, with no sign of life
on land or sea. We had evidently been working against the tide or some
current, for we had been rowing steadily from 9 to 4, which would have