Just then eight bells were struck: we came out on the bridge, and the second mate before going off mentions in the usual way--'Seventy-one on the log.' Captain Brierly looks at the compass and then all round.

It was dark and clear, and all the stars were out as plain as on a frosty night in high latitudes.
Suddenly he says with a sort of a little sigh: 'I am going aft, and shall set the log at zero for you myself, so that there can be no mistake.

Thirty-two miles more on this course and then you are safe.
Let's see--the correction on the log is six per cent.

additive; say, then, thirty by the dial to run, and you may come twenty degrees to starboard at once.

No use losing any distance--is there ?' I had never heard him talk so much at a stretch, and to no purpose as it seemed to me.