"It's a wonder it doesn't turn the schooner upside down," came from Owen. And then he added: "Guess we had better go below after all, and secure our things, or everything will be smashed."
Going below was no easy task, and they slid rather than walked down the companionway, and across the cabin. As expected, everything in their stateroom was on the floor, and knocking around at a lively rate.
By the time matters were straightened out, and things secured, the storm was at its height, and the Elizabeth pitched and tossed as if on the point of going to the bottom at any moment. It was so dark below that neither Dale nor Owen could see, and lighting a lamp was entirely out of the question, and was, as a matter of fact, forbidden by Captain Dacker on account of danger from fire. Feeling their way out into the cabin, they essayed to mount once more to the deck, when with a crash the companionway door burst open and a flood of water rushed in, upsetting them in a twinkling.
As the pair rolled over toward the stationary table, more water came down, and it was several seconds before Owen could get on his feet. Then, holding to the table with one hand, he assisted Dale to arise with the other.
"My! but this is the worst yet!" began Owen, when a crash on the deck interrupted him. Another crash followed, and they heard one of the deck hands cry out in pain. Then came a third crash, and a bump, and a second later half a dozen boards came sliding down the companionway.
"Look out!" yelled Owen, and they leaped to one side. But the boards did not reach them, and remained jammed in the doorway.
"Clear away the wreck there!" bawled Captain Dacker. "Be lively, men. Secure the rest of that lumber if you can, and if you can't shove it over. Jackson, help Neinstein to the fo'cas'l. Onnett, throw that wheel over again, and be quick about it!"
If more orders were added they were lost in the roaring of the wind and the dashing of the waves as they again swept the deck of the Elizabeth. Part of the lumber on the deck had been washed away, and poor Neinstein had had his ankle twisted in trying to secure the balance. Boards and beams were slipping and sliding in all directions, crashing into railings and cabin and forecastle. One beam went through the cook's galley, wrecking the stove, in which, fortunately, there was no fire.
For fully an hour the storm lasted, then cleared away as rapidly as it had come. There was very little thunder and lightning. As the wind went down the atmosphere became colder, until more than one wet and tired sailor began to shiver. But before any time was allowed for changing clothing, Captain Dacker had the deck cargo redistributed and made secure, and had what damage was done repaired.
"That was a blow and no mistake," said Dale, as he came on deck. "I don't believe it could be worse on the Atlantic, although it might last longer."