“Let Serena and I cast the dead men overboard,” he said; “'tis better than that we should keep them on board, for we know not how long it may be ere we get to land again.”
Mrs. Marston shuddered.
“As you will, Lilo. When it is done, I will come on deck again and help with the sails.”
An hour later the schooner was racing under close-reefed canvas before a half-gale from the eastward.
“Let us steer to the westward,” Lilo had said to his mistress. “We cannot beat back to Samoa against such a wind as this, which may last many days. And straight to the west lieth Uea, on which live some white men who will succour us.”
There was no general chart on board, but Mrs. Marston knew that Uea (Wallis Island) was due west from Samoa, and distant about two or three hundred miles.
For twelve hours the Lupetea ran swiftly before a rapidly increasing sea, and by night time Lilo was so exhausted in trying to keep her from broaching to, that Serena came to his assistance. Neither he nor Mrs. Marston knew how to heave-to the vessel; but, fearful of running past Wallis Island in the night, they did the very thing they should not have done—lowered and made fast both mainsail and foresail, and let the vessel drive under bare poles.
Worn out with his exertions, Lilo still stuck manfully to his steering, when, looking behind him, he saw a black, towering sea sweeping down upon the schooner. Uttering a cry of alarm, he let go the wheel, and darted into the cabin after Mrs. Marston, who had just left the deck.
Then came a tremendous crash, and the Lupetea shook and quivered in every timber, as the mighty avalanche of water fell upon and buried her; smashing the wheel to splinters, snapping off the rudder head, and sweeping the deck clean of everything movable.
A month later the vessel drifted ashore on Anouda Island, just as Mrs. Marston was beginning to despair.