shelter wherever we could
find it.

The sea had gone down as though by magic, for such was the power of the
wind that the slightest irregularity of surface, the slightest lift of a
wave, was at once torn off and swept away to leeward in the form of
spray so dense that it was impossible to see farther than a few yards in
any direction. And perhaps the worst and most terrifying feature of the
whole experience was that there was nothing to be done--nothing that we
could possibly do to abate the peril of our situation; we were as
absolutely helpless as though we had been bound hand and foot, and could
merely crouch impotently waiting for the end, whatever it might be.

But it was not possible for matters to continue very long as they were;
the hurricane endured only for about twenty minutes, and then moderated
to the strength of a heavy gale, whereupon the sea began to rise again
with frightful rapidity; and half-an-hour after the first stroke of the
hurricane the schooner was pitching bows under, and shipping increasing
quantities of water at every plunge. And now, as we once more bestirred
ourselves, we were confronted with a fresh calamity. For our makeshift
protection of the damaged companion and skylight, as well as the
fore-scuttle, had been swept away, probably at the first stroke of the
hurricane, although not one of us had observed it, and already vast
quantities of water were pouring into the little vessel's interior,
principally through the fore-scuttle. We had scarcely made this
alarming discovery when Saunders, the surgeon, who had remained below
through all the hubbub, busily engaged in attending to the wounded, came
up on deck and confirmed our worst fears by informing us that the
schooner was rapidly filling, the water having already risen to the
level of the cabin floor!

It was now obvious that the little ship was doomed; the hurricane,
coming so close upon the heels of the fight, and smiting us before we
had had time to repair our damages, was proving too much for her; she
was strained and battered all to pieces, and nothing that we could do
out there, short-handed, and buffeted by that pitiless wind and sea,
could avail to save her. She was doomed, and now the utmost that lay in
our power to do was to make some sort of provision for our own safety
and that of our wounded shipmates.

Yet, when one came to consider the question, what could we do? Our
boats, badly damaged by the shot of the pirate