way the boat, which, like a box slung under a
carriage, had been, in accordance with the quaint Asturian custom,
lashed to the bowsprit. A third breaker wrenched off the spritsail yard.
A fourth swept away the figurehead and signal light. The rudder only was
left.

To replace the ship's bow lantern they set fire to, and suspended at the
stem, a large block of wood covered with oakum and tar.

The mast, broken in two, all bristling with quivering splinters, ropes,
blocks, and yards, cumbered the deck. In falling it had stove in a plank
of the starboard gunwale. The skipper, still firm at the helm,
shouted,--

"While we can steer we have yet a chance. The lower planks hold good.
Axes, axes! Overboard with the mast! Clear the decks!"

Both crew and passengers worked with the excitement of despair. A few
strokes of the hatchets, and it was done. They pushed the mast over the
side. The deck was cleared.

"Now," continued the skipper, "take a rope's end and lash me to the
helm." To the tiller they bound him.

While they were fastening him he laughed, and shouted,--

"Blow, old hurdy-gurdy, bellow. I've seen your equal off Cape
Machichaco."

And when secured he clutched the helm with that strange hilarity which
danger awakens.

"All goes well, my lads. Long live our Lady of Buglose! Let us steer
west."

An enormous wave came down abeam, and fell on the vessel's quarter.
There is always in storms a tiger-like wave, a billow fierce and
decisive, which, attaining a certain height, creeps horizontally over
the surface of the waters for a time, then rises, roars, rages, and
falling on the distressed vessel tears it limb from limb.

A cloud of foam covered the entire poop of the _Matutina_.

There was heard above the confusion of darkness and waters a crash.

When the spray cleared off, when the stern again rose in view, the
skipper and the helm had disappeared. Both had been swept away.

The helm and the man they had but just secured to it had passed with the
wave into the hissing turmoil of the hurricane.

The chief of the band, gazing intently into the darkness, shouted,--

"_Te burlas de nosotros?_"

To this defiant exclamation there followed another cry,--

"Let go the anchor. Save the skipper."

They rushed to the capstan and let go the anchor.

Hookers carry but one. In this case the anchor reached the bottom, but
only to be lost. The bottom was of the hardest rock. The billows were
raging with resis