A great wind was blowing that night, tearing off boughs from the trees which grew upon the other shore of the water.

It whirled the canoe round and round and one of the boughs struck me in the eye.

I scarcely felt it at the time, but afterwards the eye withered.
Or perhaps it was a spear or a knife that struck me in the eye, I do not know.

I paddled till I lost my senses and always that wind blew.

The last thing that I remember was the sound of the canoe being driven by the gale through reeds.