"Aye; and I expect we have been two or three times round the compass
already. That is what makes this frightful broken sea."
"Well, as long as we keep on running round and round," Jack said, "there
is no fear of our running against the land anywhere."
Jim was further advanced in the study of navigation. "You forget," he
said, "the centre of the cyclone is moving along all the time, and
though we may go round and round the centre, we are still moving in the
same direction as the cyclone is going, whatever that may be."
For hours the storm raged without the slightest signs of abatement. The
sea was now terrific; the waist of the ship was full of water. Green
seas swept over the vessel's bows, carrying everything before them; and
pouring aft burst open the cabin door and deluged the cabin. By turns
the boys made their way to the door and looked out.
"Come out, you fellows!" Jim Tucker shouted after one of these trips of
investigation. "The men are coming out from the fo'castle. There is
something to be done."
The boys came out and crawled a few steps up the poop-ladder, holding on
for life as they did so. They did not attempt to get on to the poop,
for they felt they would be blown away if they exposed themselves there
to the full force of the wind.
Looking round, the scene was terrible. The surface of the sea was almost
hidden by the clouds of spray blown from the heads of the waves; a sky
that was inky black hung overhead. The sea, save for the white heads,
was of similar hue, but ahead there seemed a gleam of light. Jim
Tucker, holding on by the rail, raised himself two or three feet higher
to have a better view. A moment was sufficient.
He sprang down again and shouted in his comrades' ears, "Breakers
ahead!" It needed no further words. The light ahead was the gleam of a
sea of white foam towards which the vessel was hurrying. Nothing could
be done to check or change her course. Had the mizzen been standing an
effort might have been made to show a little sail upon it, and bring her
head up into the wind to anchor; but even could this have been done the
cables would have snapped like pack-threads. There was nothing for it
but destruction. Jack followed Jim's example--crawled to the top of the
gangway, and holding on by the poop-rail raised himself to his feet and
looked forward.
Right across their bows stretched a band of white breakers, and beyond
through the mist he could make out the line of a low shore. The lads
descended again into the waist, and with great difficulty made their way
forward to where the men were huddled together round the entrance to the
fo'castle. They too had kept a look-out, and knew of the danger into
which they were running and the impossibility of avoiding it.
"Is there anything to be done?" Jim Tucker shouted.
A silent shake of the head was a sufficient answer. The vessel and all
in her were doomed. The officers were now seen leaving the helm and
coming forward. It was a proof in itself of the hopelessness of the
prospect. The vessel was indeed steering herself straight before the
gale, and as there were no regular following waves there was no fear of
her broaching to. The boats, that had at the commencement of the storm
been hanging from the davits, were all gone or useless. One or two had
been smashed to pieces by heavy seas striking them; others had been torn
from their fastenings and blown clean away.
The long-boat alone remained lashed amidships on the deck. Jack pointed
to her, but an old sailor shook his head and pointed to the sea. No
boat could hope to live in it a minute. Once in the breakers it would
be swamped instantly. The officers made their way forward.
"It is all over, lads!" the captain shouted; "but some of us may reach
the shore on pieces of the wreck as she breaks up. We will get the
long-boat ready for launching: some of you may cling to her. Now, lads,
let us shake hands all round, and meet our fate as British sailors
should do--calmly and bravely. Perhaps--who knows?--some of us may be
saved yet."