Hour after hour passed, and at last, to the joy of all, daylight
appeared. The boats had all been broken to pieces, and Munro now
set the men to work to bind the spars and timbers together into a
raft. One of the soldiers and a sailor volunteered to try to swim
to shore with lines, but both were dashed to pieces.

At one o'clock in the day some natives were seen collecting on the
shore, and these presently dragged down a boat and launched it, and
with great difficulty rowed out to the ship. A line was thrown to
them, and with this they returned to shore, where they made the
line fast. The storm was now abating somewhat, and Munro ordered
the debarkation to commence.

As many of the troops as could find a place on the raft, or could
cling to the ropes fastened on its sides, started first, and by means
of the line hauled the raft ashore. A small party then brought it
back to the ship, while others manned the boat; and so after a number
of trips the whole of the troops and crew were landed, together
with all the weapons and armour that could be saved.

From the peasantry Munro now learned that they had been wrecked
upon the coast of Rugenwalde, a low lying tract of country in the
north of Pomerania. The forts upon it were all in the possession of
the Imperialists, while the nearest post of the Swedes was eighty
miles away.

The position was not a pleasant one. Many of the arms had been lost,
and the gunpowder was of course destroyed. The men were exhausted
and worn out with their long struggle with the tempest. They were
without food, and might at any moment be attacked by their enemies.