After this all was hush and silence; not one word more amongst them, expecting every moment to be overwhelmed with the violence of the waves, and to sink down to the bottom. To make the case still worse they had neither pump nor compass nor lantern with them, and the night turned so pitch dark that they knew not where they were for the most of the course. This made them afraid of being tossed upon some coast (such as the Isle of Sky) where the militia were in arms to prevent the Prince's escape. 'But,' to use Donald's words, 'as God would have it, by peep of day we discovered ourselves to be on the coast of the Long Isle, and we made directly to the nearest land, which was Rushness in the Island Benbecula. With great difficulty we got on shore, and saved the boat, hawling her up to dry land, in the morning of April 27th.
I asked how long the course might be that they made in the violent storm. Donald declared that they had run at least [Sidenote: _fol._ 285.] thirty-two leagues in eight hours. About this Malcom MacLeod made some doubt, alleging the course not to be so long, and they reasoned the matter betwixt them. James MacDonald supported Donald in what he had advanced, and after some debate Malcolm acknowledged that Donald was in the right, and that the course they had been driven was rather more than thirty-two leagues. The storm lasted 4 hours after landing.
Then I asked Donald if the Prince was in health all the time he was with him. Donald said that the Prince would never own he was in bad health, though he and all that were with him had reason to think that during the whole time the Prince was more or less under a bloody flux; but that he bore up most surprizingly, and never wanted spirits. Donald added, that the Prince, for all the fatigue he underwent, never slept above three or four hours at most at a time, and that when he awaked in the morning he was always sure to call for a chopin of water, which he never failed to drink off at a draught; and that he had a little bottle in his poutch out of which he used to take so many drops every morning and throughout the day, saying if anything should ail him he hoped he should cure himself, for that he was something of a doctor. 'And faith,' said Donald, 'he was indeed a bit of a doctor, for Ned Bourk happening ance to be unco ill of a cholick, the Prince said, 'Let him alane, I hope to cure him of that,' and accordingly [Sidenote: _fol._ 286.] he did so, for he gae him sae mony draps out o' the little bottlie and Ned soon was as well as ever he had been.'