Chapter Twenty Seven.
“Blown to Bits.”
The sight that met their eyes was well calculated to shock and sadden men of much less tender feeling than Van der Kemp and Captain Roy.
The water had assumed an appearance of inky blackness, and large masses of pumice were floating past, among which were numerous dead bodies of men, women, and children, intermingled with riven trees, fences, and other wreckage from the land, showing that the two great waves which had already passed under the vessel had caused terrible devastation on some parts of the shore. To add to the horror of the scene large sea-snakes were seen swimming wildly about, as if seeking to escape from the novel dangers that surrounded them.
The sailors looked on in awe-stricken silence for some time.
“P’raps some of ’em may be alive yet!” whispered one. “Couldn’t we lower a boat?”
“Impossible in such a sea,” said the captain, who overheard the remark. “Besides, no life could exist there.”
“Captain Roy,” said Van der Kemp earnestly, “let me advise you to get your foresail ready to hoist at a moment’s notice, and let them stand by to cut the cable.”