THE ARAB STRONGHOLD.

At that moment the wind lulled for an instant, and I was just able to
make a slash with the sharp edge of my knife across the rope, severing
it instanter, and thus saving poor bungling Bouncer all further trouble;
when, a terrific gust came, this time right astern, carrying sail and
mast and all, the latter snapping off like a carrot close to the thwart
where it was stepped, over the heads of all in the boat forwards, high
in air--just as if the lot were the remnants of a big kite that had
parted its supporting string, the sail ultimately disappearing in the
distance, swallowed up by the angry waves.

These latter were now boiling up round the cutter on every side, our
little pigmy of a craft seeming lost in the seething caldron of broken
water; but, she was buoyant as a cork, and, although half rilled,
breasted the billows in fine style and running before wind and sea at a
tearing rate with not a rag of sail on her now, nor an oar, save one Mr
Chisholm and I rigged out over the stern by Draper's direction, this
being better to steer her by than the rudder, which we then unshipped.

It was a good job for us that our old coxswain had got wounded, and that
Draper had taken his place just then temporarily while Hoskins was on
the sick-list; for, though Draper was the oldest petty officer on board
the ship--his promotion to a higher grade having been delayed, I
believe, through his natural crustiness of temper, which he really could
not help--there was no doubt that he knew the East Coast of Africa well,
and the management of a boat the better of the two, especially in a
stormy sea.

Ay, and it was stormy now!

Far as the eye could reach, the mad waves dashed and clashed against
each other as they raced along, borne onward before the blast; throwing
up their white crests, all lashed into foam, in showers of spray and
spindrift that fell back over us in the boat, wetting us to the skin and
blinding those that had to face it.

The horizon, too--what we could see of it, that is, through the spray--
was covered with a mass of inky clouds, almost blue-black in hue, that
covered by degrees the whole of the heavens, with the exception of a
round spot right overhead that looked like a gigantic eye.

Mr Chisholm, who, young though he was, had the sight of a hawk, spotted
this at once.

"Hullo, Draper!" he cried, pointing aloft. "What's that up there--
anything more brewing up for us, d'ye think?"