returned to the deck, a low moaning sound came to us across the
sea, but, otherwise, there seemed to be nothing to cause anxiety. Donna
Isabel wished to return to the island for more gold, but Hartog would
not permit of any further expedition being made that day. He ordered
the boats to be hoisted, and the treasure carried below. Every stitch
of canvas had already been taken off the ship by the captain's orders,
and we now rode upon a glassy sea under bare poles. Then the moaning
increased, and presently there appeared upon the horizon a black line
over which lightning played, although no clouds were visible. The
atmosphere was at this time so oppressive that it was difficult to
breathe.

Hartog then ordered the helm to be lashed, the hatches to be put on,
and all hands below, he and I being the last to quit the deck just as
the storm broke upon us with hurricane force.

For three days and nights we remained between, decks, with the hatches
battened down, not knowing but that each moment might be our last. The
noise was deafening, while the violent motion of the vessel made the
getting about from one part of the ship to another difficult and
dangerous. Food and water we obtained with difficulty, not at regular
intervals, but when opportunity offered, crawling from one to another,
and helping those who, from exhaustion, were least able to help
themselves. The air became so foul in the cabin as to cause the ship's
lanterns to burn dimly, so that we feared they would soon be
extinguished. Thus we lived amid the raging elements, shut up in a
storm-tossed coffin which we knew might go to pieces at any moment.

At length, on the third day, Hartog ventured to open one of the
hatches, when a rush of cool air came to us as we lay gasping below,
bringing with it new life and vigour. The hurricane had passed, and
although the wind and sea still ran high, we were told we might come on
deck. But the happiness we felt at being released from our dreadful
imprisonment was checked when we saw the havoc which had been wrought
by the wind and the waves upon our ship. The decks were swept clean,
the masts gone by the board, the larboard bulwarks stove in, while the
cook's galley had disappeared.

CHAPTER XLV

SUMATRA

All hands now set to work to cut away the wreckage of our masts and
rigging, which, as the ship rolled in the trough of the sea, threatened
to stave in the hull as the spars dashed against it with each recoil.
H