have caused
the vessel to broach to, in which case nothing could have saved
her. Sheltered as was the caboose, it was found impossible to keep
a fire alight, and officers and men, alike, had to content
themselves with biscuit and draughts of ale.

The vessel rolled till her bulwarks were under water, and the
yardarms at times dipped into the sea, and the men on deck were
forced to lash themselves to some standing object, to retain their
footing. The captain occasionally made his way forward to the
forecastle, where the men not on duty were huddled together, and
spoke cheeringly to them, saying that the gale could not last much
longer, and that as the Swan had weathered it so far, she would
hold on to the end.

At the commencement of the storm a tremendous rain had fallen, but
when this had ceased the sky had cleared up, and for the last two
days the sun had shone out brightly, and not a cloud had been seen.

When morning broke on the fourth day a cry of dismay broke from the
wearied men on deck, for ahead could be seen land, stretching away
on both bows. The news brought the crew from below, and they
clustered on the forecastle, gazing in the direction of this new
danger.

"We must try and get some sail on her mizzen, Standing," the
captain said. "Our only chance is to bring her head to wind."

"We can try, Captain, but I fear that you will never bring her
round."

"It is our only chance," the captain repeated, and with a loud
shout, he called for some hands to come aft.

The mizzen was shaken out and, as soon as the sheets were hauled
aft, the helm was put down. A cry burst from the crew as she came
round, for as the wind took her on the beam she lay farther and
farther over. A great wave struck her broadside, sweeping the
bulwarks away as if they had been paper, and carrying a number of
the crew off the forecastle into the sea. Still farther over she
went, and all thought that she would capsize; when there were a
series of reports, like musket shots, as the lashings of the
shrouds parted. This was followed instantly by a crash, as the
mizzen mast snapped off, two feet above the deck.

Relieved of the strain, the Swan righted somewhat. Another great
wave swept over her forecastle, still further diminishing the
number of the crew, but it carried her head round. She came up onto
an even keel, and again started on her mad course before the wind.

"Go forward, Pengarvan, and see how many hands we have lost,"