"We lashed ourselves to the rigging, so we could get the full benefit, as Roger said, of our first storm at sea. We had not long to wait, for soon a wall of waves, like a troop of war-horses, came tossing their snowy manes on the gale, and when the mad surge struck us the old ship quivered in every timber. The clouds wrapped us about, and the blinding spray and rain drenched the deck; the lightning glimmered fitfully through the mist, or hissed in zigzag streams of molten gold along the surging waves. A lull, then again the blinding flash, followed by the bellowing thunder, crashing down, it seemed, to the caverns beneath, the wind shrieking through the rigging, the tumult of waves, rising in hoarse clamor and deafening roar—followed again by blinding stroke and maddening crash.
"I have stood on old Chapultepec's crumbling wall, when mortar and cannon hurled their iron hail; when screaming shells and belching roar mingled with the shrieks of mangled and dying men, and the sullen boom of exploding mines shocked and dulled the ear; but never had I known an hour like this.
"The poor old vessel, like a hunted doe, bounded away, followed by all the hounds of the gale, climbing the dizzy cliff or leaping the yawning chasm, and throwing the foam from off her sides; then hiding in the gorges below, where the glassy wall towered far above with combing crest, scattering the spray out over the tossing sea. Again, as the ship climbed the watery hill, she seemed to pause one brief moment on the foamy height, then plunged into the swishing whirlpool beneath.
"The night wore on, yet still our vessel staggered along in her wild flight; but the winds began to abate their fury somewhat, and the flashes grew more dim and fitful until the storm rolled away to the east. Then the moon peered with white face through the rift of clouds; but as her spectral light only served to make more weird and appalling the waste of heaving billows, she quickly hid behind her fleecy veil, as if to shut the wild scene from view.
"Although the wind had died to a gentle gale, the frightened waves still galloped madly along as though fleeing from a grizzly horror they dared not face, and the ship labored like some jaded cavalry horse, that staggers and reels after the fierce charge.
"The deck had been a scene of great confusion ever since the storm had abated, and, although the waves and spray broke over the vessel, the crew were rushing about wildly, and to our surprise we saw them launching the boats; so we unlashed ourselves and hurried forward—only to hear the despairing cry: 'The vessel is sinking!'
"I looked out upon the waves, which even now seemed nearer, and with a clammy shudder comprehended what horror they were fleeing. Death rode those cold waters, and every billow was a yawning grave.
"What a dread alternative—to cast ourselves out on that boiling, foaming sea, with only a frail boat between us and eternity, or remain on deck and feel the ship slowly settling under us!
"But the boats were quickly manned, and into them were thrown a few casks of spirits and water, with a small quantity of food; then we pushed off from the fast-sinking ship, and in a moment were riding the waves.
"We had left a light burning on the vessel, to enable us to steer away from it, and thus avoid being run down or ingulfed by the final whirlpool of the wreck; and after tossing about on the troubled waters for half an hour, trying to keep the boats together, we heard a loud report, caused by the compressed air blowing up the deck of the vessel; then the light on the old ship went out forever, and the sea closed over her shattered form.