the captain, and they were both received into one of the
boats.
The rope which had hitherto held the raft to the ship, was now cast
off, and it was taken in by the boats; and in a short time the _Vrow
Katerina_ was borne to leeward of them; and Philip and Krantz now made
arrangements for the better disposal of the people. The sailors were
almost all put into boats, that they might relieve one another in
pulling; the remainder were placed on the raft, along with the
soldiers, the women, and the children. Notwithstanding that the boats
were all as much loaded as they could well bear, the numbers on the
raft were so great that it sunk nearly a foot under water when the
swell of the sea poured upon it; but stanchions and ropes to support
those on board had been fixed, and the men remained at the sides,
while the women and children were crowded together in the middle.
As soon as these arrangements were made, the boats took the raft in
tow, and just as the dawn of day appeared, pulled in the direction of
the land.
The _Vrow Katerina_ was, by this time, one volume of flame; she had
drifted about half a mile to leeward, and Captain Barentz, who was
watching her as he sat in the boat with Philip, exclaimed--"Well,
there goes a lovely ship, a ship that could do everything but
speak--I'm sure that not a ship in the fleet would have made such a
bonfire as she has--does she not burn beautifully--nobly? My poor
_Vrow Katerina_! perfect to the last, we never shall see such a ship
as you again! Well, I'm glad my father did not live to see this sight,
for it would have broken his heart, poor man."
Philip made no reply, he felt a respect even for Captain Barentz's
misplaced regard for the vessel. They made but little way, for the
swell was rather against them, and the raft was deep in the water. The
day dawned, and the appearance of the weather was not favourable; it
promised the return of the gale. Already a breeze ruffled the surface
of the water, and the swell appeared to increase rather than go down.
The sky was overcast and the horizon thick. Philip looked out for the
land but could not perceive it, for there was a haze on the horizon,
so that he could not see more than five miles. He felt that to gain
the shore before the coming night was necessary for the preservation
of so many individuals, of whom more than sixty were women and
children, who, without any nourishment, were sitting on a frail raft,
immersed in the water.
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