“Over yonder. I say, what do you think of this? Isn’t it awful! You know we are ashore.”
“Mr Rimmer says we’re on the bottom of the sea, with all the water run out.”
“Well, it does seem like it, but that’s impossible, of course. We’re not in a lake.”
“I don’t know where we are gentlemen,” said the mate, “only that I feel like a fish out of water, and I’m quite in the dark.”
“Wherever we are,” said Drew, “we have been in the midst of an awful natural convulsion, and if we can escape with life, I shall feel glad to have been a witness of such a scene.”
“I’m thinking about our poor ship, sir,” said the mate. “She’s of more consequence to me than Nature in convulsions. Oh, if these clouds would only rise and the light come so that we could see!”
“It is coming,” cried Lane. “It is certainly clearer over yonder. How still everything is!”
Scree-auh!
A long-drawn, piercing, and harsh cry from a distance.
“What’s that?” cried Drew.