CHAPTER V.
ON BOARD THE "MINNESOTA."
When the crash came, Terry was standing at the stern, a little in front of Captain Afleck, who held the wheel. The shock hurled him to the deck; but he instantly leaped to his feet again, and as he did so the captain's voice rang out,—
"Jump for the martingale, Terry! quick!"
The great bowsprit of the colliding vessel overhung the shattered and sinking schooner like the outreaching branch of a tree. It offered the one possible chance of escape from death. Already two of the sailors were frantically striving for it. Terry had not lost his wits despite the suddenness of the catastrophe. Just before him were the main-shrouds, tense and taut with the tremendous strain upon them. Springing into these, he climbed hand over hand with a celerity born of frequent practice on vessels lying at the docks, until he reached the angles made by the shackling of the martingale stays to the dolphin-striker of the other vessel. Into these he put his feet, and clasping the dolphin-striker tightly with both arms he held on in safety, while with a strange, grinding, crashing sound the big steamer, having regained her impetus after the brief check, passed over the poor Sea-Slipper, sending her down into the dark depths beneath!
The moment his own safety was assured, Terry thought of Captain Afleck, and in the silence which for a moment followed the noise of the collision, his clear, strong voice made itself hoard calling,—
"Captain Afleck, where are you? are you all right?"
It was too dark for him to see beyond the length of his arm, but he hoped that the captain had, like himself, got hold of the steamer somewhere, and thus saved his own life.
Nor was his hope unfounded. Out of the darkness below came the captain's answer,—