Daybreak disclosed the position in all its horrors. Land was eight leagues distant, not a single isle was visible between the ship and land where refuge might be found if, as was to be feared, the vessel broke up. Although she had been lightened of fifty tons weight, the sea only gained a foot and a half.
Fortunately the wind fell, otherwise the Endeavour must soon have been a wreck. However, the leak increased rapidly, although the pumps were worked incessantly. A third was put into action. The alternative was dreadful! If the vessel were freed, it must sink when no longer sustained by the rock, while if it remained fixed, it must be demolished by the waves which rent its planks asunder. The boats were too small to carry all the crew to land at one time.
Under such circumstances was there not danger that discipline would be thrown to the winds? Who could tell whether a fratricidal struggle might not ensue? And even should some of the sailors reach land, what fate could be in store for them upon an inhospitable shore, where nets and fire-arms would scarcely procure them nourishment?
What would become of those who were obliged to remain on board? Every one shared these fears, but so strong a sense of duty prevailed, so much was the captain beloved by his crew, that the terrors of the situation evoked no single cry, no disorder of any kind. The strength of the men not employed at the pumps was wisely harboured for the moment when their fate should be decided.
Measures were so skilfully taken, that when the sea rose to its height, all the officers and crew worked the capstan, and as the vessel was disengaged from the rock, it was ascertained that she drew no more water than when on the reef. But the sailors were exhausted after twenty-four hours of such terrible anxiety. It was necessary to change the hands at the pumps every five minutes.
A new disaster was now added. The man whose duty it was to measure the water in the hold, announced that it had increased to eighteen inches in a few moments. Fortunately the mistake of the measure taken was immediately ascertained, and the crew were so overjoyed that they fancied all danger over.
An officer named Monkhouse conceived an excellent idea. He applied a sort of cap to the stern, which he filled in with wool, rope-yarn, and the intestines of the animals slaughtered on board, and so effected a stoppage of the leak. From this time the men, who spoke of driving the vessel on a coast to reconstruct another from its ruins, which might take them to the East Indies, thought only of finding a suitable harbour for the purpose.
The desirable harbour was reached on the 17th of June, at the mouth of a current which Cook called Endeavour River.
The necessary labours for the careening of the vessel were at once begun and carried on with the utmost rapidity.
The sick were landed, and the staff visited the land several times, in the hope of killing some game, and procuring fresh meat for the sufferers from scurvy. Tupia saw an animal which Banks, from his description, imagined to have been a wolf. But a few days later several others were seen, who jumped upon their fore feet, and took enormous leaps. They were kangaroos, marsupial animals, only met with in Australia, and which had never before seen a European. The natives in this spot appeared far less savage than on other parts of the coast. They not only allowed the English to approach, but treated them cordially, and remained several days with them.