e is no head, nothing is accomplished.
Everything was confusion; the captain, springing into the first boat,
bade his men follow, leaving, beside Harry, but two worthless fellows,
who hardly knew a skysail from a jib-sheet, in charge of the ship. Harry
kept his eye upon the boats for hours; he perceived they were evidently
having a hard time of it. Running aft to get a glass, as they distanced
him, he discovered a fog had sprang up, and was shutting in heavily on
all sides; he returned to mark the boats; they were nowhere to be seen;
he had lost them entirely; nothing was to be seen on all sides but thick
fog banks! What was to be done? where they were, how far from the boats,
and in what direction, they knew not. The boy was aware that they were
all ignorant of the management of the ship, and what was worse, should
the least breeze spring up, they would be borne,--they knew not whither.
A couple of hours passed, and the fog did not lift. Night was coming on,
and from the increased darkness, together with a low, rumbling noise of
the sea, it was evident a storm was brewing. Harry anxiously walked the
quarter deck; it would be certain destruction if they remained in that
position till night should overtake them. The boy called to the men,
asking what was to be done; but they in terror could do nothing but
lament their situation, calling out against the captain for leaving them
in such a state. Harry hesitated; what was done must be done speedily.
To take in sail was his first thought; then, with the assistance of the
clumsy seamen, he rolled out a small cannon-piece, and for one long hour
did he keep up an incessant fire. The coming storm was now plainly
discernible; the distant rolling of thunder was heard, the sea was
agitated, and occasionally a flaw would shake the rattlings. They were
in momentary expectation that the storm would burst upon them. Harry had
left his firing, and ascending the hurricane deck, stood with folded
arms, as if bracing himself to meet the foe. It is coming in all its
fury! kind heaven! the fog lifts! it rolls itself away as it were a
great scroll. The ink-black heavens are fearfully majestic, seen in the
lightning's lurid glare. A speck! yes, 't is the boats! do they see
them? Once more the boy flies to the cannon, not pausing to see if they
are nearing the ship; his heart beats wildly; 'tis their only chance for
life! the hurricane has burst upon them! the enraged deep responds
loudly to the