toiled with his oars toward the west, where he fancied the rest of the
fleet to be; and sometimes he spread his little sprit-sail, steering with
an oar--a thing which was, in a heavy sea, almost as hard as rowing. At
last the fog lifted, and he found himself alone upon the ocean. He had
lost his bearings and could not tell the points of the compass. Presently
out of a heavy bank of fog which rose against the horizon he saw what
seemed land. It gave him new strength, and he worked hard to reach it; but
it was long since he had eaten, his head was dizzy, and he lay down on the
thwart of the boat, rather heedless of what might come. Growing weaker and
weaker, he did not clearly know what he was doing. Suddenly he started up,
for a voice hailed him from above his head. He saw above him the high
stern of a small vessel, and with the aid of a sailor he was helped on
board.

He found himself on the deck of a sloop of about seventy tons, John
Nisbet, master, with a crew of seven men. They had sailed from Killebegs
(County Donegal), in Ireland, for the coast of France, laden with butter,
tallow, and hides, and were now returning from France with French wines,
and were befogged as Kirwan had been. The boy was at once taken on board
and rated as a seaman; and the later adventures of the trip are here given
as he reported them on his return with the ship some months later.

The mist continued thicker and thicker for a time, and when it suddenly
furled itself away, they found themselves on an unknown coast, with the
wind driving them shoreward. There were men on board who were familiar
with the whole coast of Ireland and Scotland, but they remembered nothing
like this. Finding less than three fathoms of water, they came to anchor
and sent four men ashore to find where they were; these being James Ross
the carpenter and two sailors, with the boy Kirwan. They took swords and
pistols. Landing at the edge of a little wood, they walked for a mile