I should see the first glow of the rising sun that would assure me
we were still upon the right course. Gradually the heavens
lightened; but astern I could see no intenser glow that would
indicate the rising sun behind the mist. Bradley was standing
at my side. Presently he touched my arm.

"Look, captain," he said, and pointed south.

I looked and gasped, for there directly to port I saw outlined
through the haze the red top of the rising sun. Hurrying to the
tower, I looked at the compass. It showed that we were holding
steadily upon our westward course. Either the sun was rising in
the south, or the compass had been tampered with. The conclusion
was obvious.

I went back to Bradley and told him what I had discovered.
"And," I concluded, "we can't make another five hundred knots
without oil; our provisions are running low and so is our water.
God only knows how far south we have run."

"There is nothing to do," he replied, "other than to alter our
course once more toward the west; we must raise land soon or we
shall all be lost."

I told him to do so; and then I set to work improvising a crude
sextant with which we finally took our bearings in a rough and
most unsatisfactory manner; for when the work was done, we did
not know how far from the truth the result might be. It showed
us to be about 20' north and 30' west--nearly twenty-five
hundred miles off our course. In short, if our reading was