We pulled to a low point, distant about two miles, and which bore south by east from us; and having anchored off this waited for the morning dawn to pursue our voyage.
CONTINUE A SOUTHERLY COURSE.
March 26.
In the morning I found that the point we were anchored off ran south-east and north-west: it was about two miles long and formed a low spit of land whence the coast trended due south.

I debated for a few minutes whether I should explore the creek which lay to the south of us, but decided in the negative.

Had I followed my own wishes I should have done so, but the lives of others now depended on my incurring no unjustifiable delay, and it did not therefore appear to be of importance; besides, as we had now traced the unknown portions of this great bay, and had moreover discovered in it a country in every way fitted for immediate occupation, and which indeed appeared from its soil and position to be one of the most valuable portions of the western side of the Continent, I thought that everything worthy of any great risk or danger had been accomplished, and resolved to hurry homewards.
STEER FROM THE MAIN.
After following the coast for a few miles further to the south I considered we were now far enough to windward to fetch somewhere near the centre of Perron's Peninsula; I therefore made sail and steered for that point.
ANOTHER GALE OF WIND.
Our passage across was a long and tedious one, and when at last towards evening we sighted Perron's Peninsula it was very evident that my boat would not do more than fetch the very northern point, but the other boat, which was a much better sailer, was nearly a mile to windward of us.

The weather had been for the last hour or two very threatening, and we had reached to within two miles of the shore when the wind suddenly shifted to the south-west and began to blow a terrific gale.

We had just time to down sail and take to the oars, and as every one of the crew saw that his life depended on it they gave way strenuously.