It now was blowing with force. The sea was white under the steel-blue bank, which had risen until a twilight darkness was upon the ocean. The sky above was turning a dull gray, and the scud was darker against it, whirling along in torn masses before the squalls, which were becoming more frequent and violent. The wind was shifting southerly, and the shifts in the squalls told plainly of the danger of the approaching spot of low pressure, about which the squalls drew in with the spiral movement common to tropical hurricanes.
Bull Sanders looked anxiously at the lubber's mark. The sea was getting worse, and the sudden hot blasts of wind were more vicious. He was too old a sailor to be caught with loose gear. Everything already had been done to snug the sloop down; but there was a limit to the strength of spars and lines. The mainsail might hold; but some of those hurricane squalls would blow away anything made of canvas, and he decided to take no chances. He got out his sea-anchor, or drag, and let it go from the weather quarter, passing the line forward with difficulty to the windlass. Then, just after a squall, all hands handed in the bit of canvas, rolled it up, and made it fast. The Sea-Horse now was going astern fast, pulling the drag with her which kept her head to the sea. Nothing more could be done for the time, and Sanders crouched in the wake of the cabin, watching ahead for the shift which would come.
"What's that?" he bawled into the mate's ear, and pointed to the eastward.
Just as the sloop rose upon a high crest, a dark speck showed for a moment on the eastern horizon. It was not far away; for it was too thick to see any great distance.
"Steamer," bawled the mate, "hove-to and going to the north'ard like blazes!"
"We're right in th' stream—if the wind holds southeast, he'll be all right."
"But it won't. It's shifting—be southwest in an hour—he'll be close to the bank."
"Gun Key?"
"We ain't more'n twenty miles to the south'ard o' Gun Key—'bout sou'west-b'-south."
The squalls became fiercer and more frequent. They were like blasts from an explosion, the wind roaring past with incredible power. Between them it was blowing at the rate of sixty miles an hour; but when they struck it was nearly double that velocity. The wrecking sloop sagged away to leeward, and the dangerous sea swept upon her during those rushes in a way that shook every bolt and fastening in the frame. She was beginning to make water a little, and the bursting sea which struck now and again sought out every crack and seam in the companion doors and hatchway. The men on deck were submerged repeatedly. For an hour and more they watched her making bad weather of it, and then came a darker colour in the gray above. There was a sudden squall of tremendous power. The vessel was hove almost on her beam ends as it took her forward of the beam, and she swung up to the drag barely in time to take the sea bow on. The lubber's mark swung slowly from left to right until it reached southwest.