In all the turmoil of alarm the frightened Chinaman lost his balance, and fell overboard, and a huge sea-serpent, with eyes of fire gleaming like electric lights above distended greedy, waiting jaws, rose up from out of the water, with its abnormally long body looking like a series of hoops.
The Uncle Sam Brownie threw out a life-preserver, but the Sailor with rare presence of mind grasped a boat-hook, and, skillfully hooking the end of the despairing Chinaman’s blouse, yanked him back on the raft before the monster could swallow him.
No craft however staunch could withstand such a gale, which grew and grew in violence.
The raft shivered and shook under its terrific strain, and there came pistol-like cracks at intervals as the wood splintered or broke apart, while nails and spikes flew up from the groaning, loosening timbers.
Slowly but surely the raft upon which the Brownies had exercised such ingenuity and skill was disintegrating, and the great danger of the band increased with each passing moment. And in the flashes of lightning that illumined the rumbling skies a huge bird with flapping wings suddenly swooped down, and, seizing the frightened Dude by his breeches-seat, bore him, dangling face downward, with his cherished cane still clutched in his hand, up, up, still up, till he was out of sight.
The others, all aghast, looked up at him until he disappeared, and wondered if they would ever see him again. And, while they wondered, with their own misfortune forgotten in this greater calamity that had come to their beloved companion, there was heard a crack louder than any that had gone before, and the raft went all at once to pieces.
Struggling in the water, or clinging to broken spars, logs, and pieces of timber, the Brownies suddenly found themselves gasping and choking as relentless waves rolled over them, at times submerging them.
This was the end, then, of their unfortunate adventure. There was nothing to cause even the slightest ray of hope. It looked as though all the Brownies would be lost.
