For many days the two canoes kept together, and the crews encouraged each other; their voices raised in hymns of praise being wafted afar across the waters, as they joined in chorus, and sang alternately with each other.  At length dark clouds were seen gathering in the horizon, light scud flew across the sky, the sea began to rise--the canoes laboured much--soon they were pitching violently into the quick-coming seas: still they were skilfully managed, and the wind allowed them to keep their course.  Gradually, however, they drifted further and further apart.  Night came on, but the tempest did not abate.  Several of the people were kept continually bailing, for, in spite of all their care, the sea constantly broke over them, and from the straining of the canoe many a leak was formed.  No one who endured them, could ever forget the horrors of that night.  "Had we been as we once were," continued the missionary, "we should have resigned ourselves to our fate, and perished; but we knew that it is the duty of Christians to strive to the last, trusting in the arm of Him who is all-powerful to save, and while prepared for death, never abandoning hope.  The morning at length came. The other canoe was nowhere to be seen.  In vain we stood up and strained our eyes on every side, as we rose to the top of a sea; not a sign of her could we perceive.  Still we trusted that our friends might have been preserved.  That day the gale blew as furiously as before; but in the evening it moderated, though the sky was covered with clouds, and we knew not whither we were drifting.  For several days we drifted on, ignorant of our position.  Every morning, when daylight returned, we looked out eagerly for our friends, but we never saw them again.  We live in hope that they may have been preserved.  All is for the best.