The upward and forward movement came with such a force that nearly everybody was taken clean and clear off his feet, and had not each one clung fast, as directed by Billy Dill, somebody must surely have been flung overboard. The bark turned around and around on the top of the wave, and then lurched forward and went on and on, the spray flying so thickly that scarcely a thing of what was beyond could be seen.
"My gracious!" gasped Roger, who had been flung down on top of Phil. "What is this?"
"Don't ask me!" returned Dave, who was sitting on the upper step with his arms entwined around the companionway rail. "I guess it's an earthquake and a hurricane rolled into one."
"Has anybody gone overboard?" asked Phil, as he tried to stand up.
"I don't know. Billy Dill gave the warning."
The door to the cabin was open, and the three lads fairly tumbled into the compartment. The bark was rocking to such an extent that to stand upright was out of the question. Everything that was loose was on the floor, shifting from one side to the other.
The boys waited with bated breath, and a few minutes later heard a crash on the deck, which told that a topmast, or one of the yards, had come down. Then came a yell of alarm from one of the sailors.
"We are going to sink! We are going to sink!"
"Did you hear that?" ejaculated Roger. "He said the Stormy Petrel was going to sink!"
"What shall we do?" put in Phil. "I don't want to drown!"