These screws were responsible for a serious deviation of
the needle, and this it was that had so nearly led them to fatal
disaster.
A heavy swell was running, and the little vessel, with but eight feet
beam, rolled so rapidly that the compass needle, even when the defect
had been remedied, made a wide swing from side to side as the vessel
rolled. The best that could be done was to read the dial midway
between the extreme points of the needle's swing. This was deemed safe
enough, and away the _Princess May_ ploughed again through the fog.
At five o'clock in the afternoon it was decided to work in toward
shore and search for a sheltering harbor in which to anchor for the
night. Under any circumstance it would be foolhardy for so small a
vessel to remain in the open sea outside, after darkness set in, in
those ice-menaced fog-choked northern waters. The course of the
_Princess May_ was accordingly changed to bear to the westward and
Grenfell was continuously feeling his way through the fog when
suddenly, and to the dismay of all on board, they found themselves
surrounded by jagged reefs and small rocky islands and in the midst of
boiling surf.
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