hing squall. Out
of the abysmal darkness of the black cloud overhead white hail streamed
on her, rattled on the rigging, leaped in handfuls off the yards,
rebounded on the deck--round and gleaming in the murky turmoil like
a shower of pearls. It passed away. For a moment a livid sun shot
horizontally the last rays of sinister light between the hills of steep,
rolling waves. Then a wild night rushed in--stamped out in a great howl
that dismal remnant of a stormy day.

There was no sleep on board that night. Most seamen remember in their
life one or two such nights of a culminating gale. Nothing seems left
of the whole universe but darkness, clamour, fury--and the ship. And
like the last vestige of a shattered creation she drifts, bearing an
anguished remnant of sinful mankind, through the distress, tumult, and
pain of an avenging terror. No one slept in the forecastle. The tin
oil-lamp suspended on a long string, smoking, described wide circles;
wet clothing made dark heaps on the glistening floor; a thin layer of
water rushed to and fro. In the bed-places men lay booted, resting on
elbows and with open eyes. Hung-up suits of oilskin swung out and
in, lively and disquieting like reckless ghosts of decapitated seamen
dancing in a tempest. No one spoke and all listened. Outside the night
moaned and sobbed to the accompaniment of a continuous loud tremor as
of innumerable drums beating far off. Shrieks passed through the air.
Tremendous dull blows made the ship tremble while she rolled under the
weight of the seas toppling on her deck. At times she soared up swiftly
as if to leave this earth for ever, then during interminable moments
fell through a void with all the hearts on board of her standing still,
till a frightful shock, expected and sudden, started them off again with
a big thump. After every dislocating jerk of the ship, Wamibo, stretched
full length, his face on the pillow, groaned slightly with the pain of
his tormented universe. Now and then, for the fraction of an intolerable
second, the ship, in the fiercer burst of a terrible uproar, remained on
her side, vibrating and still, with a stillness more appalling than the
wildest motion. Then upon all those prone bodies a stir would pass, a
shiver of suspense. A man would protrude his anxious head and a pair
of eyes glistened in the sway of light glaring wildly. Some moved their
legs a little as if making ready to jump out. But several, motionless on
their backs an