er the close-reefed fore-top sail, a diminutive
try sail on the mizzen, and the jib. The hum had increased to a
roar, but still not a breath of wind stirred the sails.

"Look up!" Bill said to Reuben; "you may be at sea fifty years, and
never see that again."

Reuben looked up. Immediately overhead was a small circle of blue
sky, round and round whose edge the edging of cloud seemed to be
circling, with extreme velocity. The light seemed to pierce
straight down onto the vessel, and she stood, pale and white, while
all around her a pitchy blackness seemed to prevail.

"We are in the eye of the storm, my lad. Here it comes. Now, hold
on for your life."

In another moment it seemed to Reuben that the end of all things
was come. He was pinned against the bulwark, as if by a mighty
invisible hand; and the vessel heeled over and over, until the deck
seemed to rise in a wall above him. Then the water poured over him
and, though he still held on, he thought the vessel had capsized.
Then he felt her rising beneath his feet, and his head emerged from
the water.

The captain, the first mate, and two seamen were at the wheel.
Reuben saw the captain wave his hand, but his words were lost in
the fury of the wind. The second mate, Bill Hardy, and two or three
other sailors knew what was required, and hauled upon the lee brace
of the fore-top-sail yard. The Paramatta was still lying nearly
over on her beam ends, but gradually her head began to pay off, and
she slowly righted. A minute later she was tearing directly before
the gale. Scarcely had she done so, when the fore-top sail blew out
of the bolt ropes, with a report that was heard even above the howl
of the tempest.

"It's done its work," Bill shouted in Reuben's ear. "I thought she
was gone. Just a little more, and she would have turned turtle."

The captain had used almost precisely the same words to the first
officer, adding:

"She will do now, but we shall have to try to get a little more
head sail on her, when the sea gets up. Call some of the hands aft,
and get this try sail down. She yaws so, now the fore-top sail's
gone, there is no steering her."

This was soon done and, under bare poles, the storm jib now the
only sail upon her, the Paramatta tore through the water. There was
little motion, for the sea had not begun to get up, seeming to be
pressed flat by the force of the wind. The captain now left the
helm. Two or three of the male passengers were standing