"All hands on deck. Up men, for your lives, up! Clew up, haul down!
Brace round the after-yards! Up with the helm!"

To the eastward, hitherto unobserved, a small, white cloud had appeared,
no bigger than a man's hand. With almost the velocity of a thunderbolt
it darted across the sky, expanding as rapidly, till, as it approached,
it seemed like a vast bank of white mist, to which the rays of the sun,
now past the meridian, gave a bright and shining appearance, the sea
below, as if swept up by its base, curling in huge, foaming waves, and
overtopping, with an angry roar, the reefs it encountered, as it bubbled
and hissed in its onward course, while it sent before it, flying high
into the air, a sheet of spray, which, almost as soon as seen, enveloped
the doomed vessel. It was the _Sea Hawk's_ pall. The intending
mutineers, startled by the fierce ringing tones of their commander's
voice, attempted, in a mass, to rush up the main hatchway; at first,
with the purpose of executing their foul project; but, in an instant, as
the roar of the tempest struck their ears, and they felt the motion of
the vessel, with wild energy, in the hopes of preserving their worthless
lives, one man impeded the other; the bond of union was no longer
thought of--the fear of their own death, not the wish to destroy
another, now urged them on. Those who had first seized the coaming
strove to spring on deck, while those below grasped them fast; and few
only succeeded in freeing themselves in the struggle, which seemed for
existence.

The moment that their services might have availed was lost, if any power
could have saved the vessel; those more faithful to their trust, who had
remained on deck, flew to the halyards and braces; but, before they
could let go the first, or haul away on the others, the white squall was
upon them. The sails were taken flat aback, and the yards pressed
against the mast would not start. Down, down she went over on her
starboard side, like a tall reed bent by the wind. Her bowsprit and the
canvas stretched on it flew to leeward. Her head turned a few points to
the eastward--she made a stern-board--the water rushed in torrents up
her decks and into her hold--the foam flew wildly over her side, and
shrieks, and cries, and oaths, extorted by the agony of despair, escaped
from her maddened crew, as they beheld their inevitable doom.

As Zappa saw the fury of the squall, he felt that all his skill and all
his cour