back on deck, calling out, "All
hands to the pumps!"

There is no need to say that. All take hold and work them with a will:
it is as if every one were working for his own life.

A struggle succeeds, triangular and unequal, being as two to one. For
the storm still rages, needing helm and sails to be looked after, while
the inflow must be kept under in the hold. A terrible conflict it is,
between man's strength and the elements, but short, and alas! to end in
the defeat of the former.

The _Calypso_ is water-logged, will no longer obey her helm, and must
surely sink.

At length, convinced of this, Captain Gancy calls out, "Boys, it's no
use trying to keep her afloat. Drop the pumps, and let us take to the
boats."

But taking to the boats is neither an easy nor hopeful alternative,
seeming little better than that of a drowning man catching at straws.
Still, though desperate, it is their only chance, and with not a moment
to be wasted in irresolution. Luckily the _Calypso's_ crew is a
well-disciplined one, every hand on board having served in her for
years. The only two boats left them--the gig and pinnace--are therefore
let down to the water, without damage to either, and, by like dexterous
management, everybody got safely into them. It is a quick embarkation,
however--so hurried, indeed, that few effects can be taken along, only
those that chance to be readiest to hand. Another moment's delay might
have cost them their lives, for scarce have they taken their seats and
pushed the boats clear of the ship's side, when, another sea striking
her, she goes down head foremost like a lump of lead, carrying masts,
spars, torn sails, and rigging--everything--along with her.

Captain Gancy groans at the sight. "My fine barque gone to the bottom
of the sea, cargo and all--the gatherings of years. Hard, cruel luck!"

Mingling with his words of sorrow are cries that seem cruel too: the
screams of seabirds, gannets, gulls, and the wide-winged albatross, that
have been long hovering above the _Calypso_, as if knowing her to be
doomed, and hoping to find a feast among the floating remnants of the
wreck.

CHAPTER FIVE.

THE CASTAWAYS.

Not long does Captain Gancy lament the loss of his fine vessel and
valuable cargo. In the face and fear of a far greater loss--his own
life and the lives of his companions there is no time for vain regrets.
The storm is still in full fury; the winds and the waves are as high as