Two days later we were overtaken by a tremendous tempest, and the sea being at the same time overhung by a dense fog, which my people called "the lungs of the ocean," we were tossed about by the foaming waves, and seemed for several succeeding days to be wandering in the gloomy realms of the dead. By the evening of the fifth day we had lost all reckoning of our position, and were drifting helplessly at the mercy of the wind and waves. Towards midnight, overcome with fatigue, I was dozing at the foot of the mast, when I was aroused by Himilco's stentorian shout, "Breakers ahead!"

In an instant I was upon my feet, and at the helmsman's side.

"Backwater!" I shouted, "and signal the other ships."

All hastened to light the torches and lamps; but it was too late—a long cry of distress made us aware that the Dagon had already stranded, and as I tacked about to effect a retreat, I witnessed the heart-breaking spectacle of the Cabiros completely heeled over, and lying in the very midst of the breakers.

The Ashtoreth, although she was hitherto uninjured, was environed by reefs which were level with the surface of the water. The current was so strong that all my efforts to get back to the channel by which we had entered were unavailing, and after an hour's struggle I still found myself near enough to hear the surf curling over the peaks of the rocks. For nearly the twentieth time I gave the order to tack, when a sudden and ominous crash revealed the appalling fact that we had struck the shoal, and were aground; and all through that pitch-black night we had to endure the torture of believing that all our vessels were irretrievably lost.

The wind dropped with the first streak of dawn, and beyond the breakers I could distinguish that the sea was calm, and that we were not much more than half a stadium from the shore. Shipwrecked though we might be, our lives were spared, and our situation was not altogether so desperate as we had imagined. The Cabiros was safe, in spite of her disaster, and had been hauled up on shore; but the Dagon, it was only too evident, was in a very critical position. I ordered all my men to abandon the ships and make for land. Some of them hung back, unwilling to leave me; Chamai being so reluctant to go that he had to be sent ashore by main force, and Hamilcar, Hasdrubal, Gisgo, and Himilco all pleading so earnestly to remain with me that I was forced to consent. My own resolution, of course, was to abide, while the planks held together, with the ship that had carried us so far in safety.

As the day advanced the swell gradually abated, and the pale-blue sky was broken by fleecy clouds; not far away we could see the green shore, where our people were standing on the water's edge waving signs of encouragement, and very soon Bichri and Dionysos managed to clamber over the rocks and to come aboard our vessel.

At low tide I made a careful examination of the keels, and found that not only was the keel of the Ashtoreth very little injured, but that her stern was wedged so tightly between the two rocks that her position was secure; at the same time she had not been jammed in so violently but that I hoped a high tide might float her again. With the Dagon, however, the case was unfortunately very different; she had been dashed so hopelessly against the jutting crags that she must inevitably go to pieces, and I lost no time in beginning to unload her.

Our people had discovered a stream of fresh water, and a neighbouring wood afforded fuel, so that the spot was very favourable for a camp, the whole arrangement of which I deputed to Hannibal, who immediately enclosed the site with an intrenchment. Having completed the task of unloading both ships, we took down the mast of the Ashtoreth, and rescued from the Dagon as much planking and as many fittings as we could, as well as the best part of her copper sheathing. Lightened by the removal of her cargo and rigging, the Ashtoreth, under the influence of a stiffish breeze, was set afloat on the third day amidst general acclamation, and so admirably was she managed by Himilco, that she was soon brought to land, and laid high and dry upon the shore.