We were just then, as far as we could judge, directly abreast of the light.  Every instant after this would be making our case more hopeless. How we shouted, again and again! but all we heard in return was the discordant shriek of the sea-fowl as they flew away startled at the noise.  So we drifted on.  In vain we shouted; our voices grew weary, and we gave it up in despair.  Our eyes were still fixed on the light. We sunk lower and lower.  We held on to the boat, but every moment increased our difficulty in so doing, the wind getting up, or rather we had drifted into a more exposed part of the channel, and the boat began to toss about, while the spray beat wildly over us.  How long the time seemed!  Every moment was counted as a minute; every minute as an hour. We had to gripe on to the keel with all our might, or we should have been washed off.  With the greatest difficulty we could retain our hold. Yet we could still see the light dimly glimmering in the distance; but as that grew fainter and fainter, so did our hopes of being rescued. Scarcely could we see the light; dimmer and dimmer it grew; then we looked--it had disappeared!  The rapid current hurried us on.  The wide, storm-tossed Southern Ocean lay spread out before us.  Darkness was around us.  No land could be distinguished.  Hope of life fled.  We all prayed.  We encouraged each other.  We resolved not to give way to despair while life remained.  We had to speak in a loud tone to be heard.