For fear of the ship being injured by the rocks, they could only approach within a certain distance, and with only one small boat. Stewart called through a speaking trumpet to the sailors, and inquired how many they could take at one time in the boat. They answered, "twelve," at the same time recommending to the shipwrecked to embark quietly, and not rush in such numbers as to peril their own safety. Stewart, exhausted as he was, enforced the necessity there was for this caution, and marshaling his men as well as was possible in the narrow space, he divided off the first twelve, and his command was obeyed with promptness and without confusion. In the meantime, the little boat had reached the rock, and the embarcation began, and without the least disorder. The night came on, but nineteen times the boat made its way through the darkness, from the ship to the now nearly submerged rock, still bearing its living freight in safety, and it was only at the last voyage that they shipped the two last soldiers, and the noble hearted, heroic Stewart, whose soul was full of blissful feelings at the thought that by his courage, obtained through confidence in God, he had saved the lives of three hundred men.
Soon after embarking, and wearied by the exertions I had been obliged to make for the last few days, I betook myself to my cabin and to rest. When I again ascended to the deck, I looked towards the shore we had left, but nothing was to be seen, but a long gray stripe that lay like a dim cloud along the distant horizon. It was the last sight of my native land, and gradually its faint purple outline faded until it was lost in the foam-crested waves. On all sides of me was the wild waste of waters; as far as the eye could reach, it rested upon moving masses like fields of sea-green. Above us was the blue and vaulted heavens that were now illumined with the burnished rays of an August sun, that was even now dipping his broad disk into the waves that formed the distant horizon.
All around was life and motion; ours had not been the only ship that had taken advantage of a favorable wind to put out from Cuxhaven to the open sea. Four or five other ships were sailing along side, and as they spread their snowy sails, on which the bright rays of the summer sun was playing, they skimmed like white-winged sea-mews over the dark green waters.