Hastings had the tiller, the sky was bright with stars, the night was cool and comfortable, the seas were easy and the round-bowed longboat was a good, dry, sea-keeping vessel. Under other circumstances, those aboard of her would have been a merry company, but not now. Hastings and Povey in particular were not merry. They were watching the bright stars as if their lives depended on them, which they did. "There!" said Povey. "There's one setting now -" he pointed "- see?" "Yes," said Hastings, and gave a touch on the tiller to steer towards it. "Tell me again," said Hastings, who'd never paid half as much attention to his lessons as he should have. "We're steering west" said Povey. "Sunrise and sunset gives us east and west by day, and the stars set in the west at night, yes?" "Yes." "And better than that, we've got the northern trades blowing northwest - or close to that - which couldn't be better for a westerly passage." "But why are we steering west?" said Hastings. Povey sighed.
