The Battle and the Breeze | Page 3

he is about, and does not
want advice.
"Keep her a point to the west," he added, turning to the steersman.
There was a cry at that moment--a cry such as might have chilled the
blood in the stoutest heart--
"Rocks ahead!"
"Port! port! hard-a-port!" shouted the men. Their hoarse voices rose

above the gale, but not above the terrible roar of the surf, which now
mingled with the din of the storm.
The order was repeated by the mate, who sprang to the wheel and
assisted in obeying it. Round came the gallant ship with a magnificent
sweep, and in another moment she would have been head to wind,
when a sudden squall burst upon her broadside and threw her on her
beam-ends.
When this happened the mate sprang to the companion-hatch to get an
axe, intending to cut the weather-shrouds so that the masts might go
overboard and allow the ship to right herself, for, as she then lay, the
water was pouring into her. Tom Riggles was, when she heeled over,
thrown violently against the mate, and both men rolled to leeward. This
accident was the means of saving them for the time, for just then the
mizzen rigging gave way, the mast snapped across, and the captain and
some of the men who had been hastening aft were swept with the wreck
into the sea.
A few minutes elapsed ere Tom and the mate gained a place of partial
security on the poop. The scene that met their gaze there was terrible
beyond description. Not far ahead the sea roared in irresistible fury on a
reef of rocks, towards which the ship was slowly drifting. The light of
the moon was just sufficient to show that a few of the men were still
clinging to the rail of the forecastle, and that the rigging of the main
and foremasts still held fast.
"Have you got the hatchet yet?" asked Tom of the mate, who clung to a
belaying-pin close behind him.
"Ay, but what matters it whether we strike the rocks on our beam-ends
or an even keel?"
The mate spoke in the tones of a man who desperately dares the fate
which he cannot avoid.
"Here! let me have it!" cried Tom.

He seized the hatchet as he spoke and clambered to the gangway. A
few strokes sufficed to cut the overstrained ropes, and the mainmast
snapped off with a loud report, and the ship slowly righted.
"Hold on!" shouted Tom to a man who appeared to be slipping off the
bulwarks into the sea.
As no reply was given, the sailor boldly leapt forward, caught the man
by the collar, and dragged him into a position of safety.
"Why, Bill, my boy, is't you?" exclaimed the worthy man in a tone of
surprise, as he looked at the face of our hero, who lay on the deck at his
feet; but poor Bill made no reply, and it was not until a glass of rum
had been poured down his throat by his deliverer that he began to
recover.
Several of the crew who had clung to different parts of the wreck now
came aft one by one, until most of the survivors were grouped together
near the wheel, awaiting in silence the shock which they knew must
inevitably take place in the course of a few minutes, for the ship,
having righted, now drifted with greater rapidity to her doom.
It was an awful moment for these miserable men! If they could have
only vented their feelings in vigorous action it would have been some
relief, but this was impossible, for wave after wave washed over the
stern and swept the decks, obliging them to hold on for their lives.
At last the shock came. With a terrible crash the good ship struck and
recoiled, quivering in every plank. On the back of another wave she
was lifted up, and again cast on the cruel rocks. There was a sound of
rending wood and snapping cordage, and next moment the foremast
was in the sea, tossing violently, and beating against the ship's side, to
which it was still attached by part of the rigging. Three of the men who
had clung to the shrouds of the foremast were swept overboard and
drowned. Once more the wreck recoiled, rose again on a towering
billow, and was launched on the rocks with such violence that she was
forced forward and upwards several yards, and remained fixed.

Slight although this change was for the better, it sufficed to infuse hope
into the hearts of the hitherto despairing sailors. The dread of being
instantly dashed to pieces was removed, and with one consent they
scrambled to the bow to see if there was any chance of reaching the
shore.
Clinging