In a short time, a fearful havoc was made with the various craft in the harbour. Around us wrecks strewed the sea in every direction; here and there poor fellows swimming for their lives, some holding on to pieces of planks and spars. Many sank before our eyes. Boat after boat was upset. Some, however, rode over the seas in gallant style, the men on board pulling bravely. The fury of the gale increased. We veered out more cable. Night at length coming on, added to the wild horrors of the scene. Now, as a vessel drove past us, we could hear the shrieks and cries of the unhappy crew as they were carried to destruction. Such, in spite of the size of our stout ship, might be our fate should the anchors not hold.
Suddenly the wind dropped; still the sea continued to leap and foam around us.
“It will be all right, I hope,” I said to Mr Tarbox. “These hurricanes seldom last long, I fancy.”
“Not quite so certain of that, Walter,” he observed. “I don’t like the look of the sky even now.” Once more examining the cables, he walked with me aft, from whence we could better see the shore.
“Hark! what is that roaring?” I said. It seemed as if a blast was sweeping over the land, hurling down trees and buildings and all impediments in its course. “Can it be an earthquake? Oh! what will become of my sister and those on shore?”
“No, it is no earthquake,” answered the boatswain; “it is the hurricane shifting its quarter.”
As he spoke, the wind struck the ship with redoubled force. She swung round before it; still, knowing that our anchors had been holding, and our cables strong, we had little fear of receiving damage, as the sea, at all events, with the change of wind, would subside instead of being increased. Suddenly, however, a peculiar sound was heard, as of a chain running out. The boatswain rushed forward, and I followed him; but we were only just in time to see the end of the chain cables flying through the hawse-holes, and away the ship drifted out of the harbour.
“That did not happen by chance,” exclaimed Tarbox; “it is the work of those Lascars. Quick, lads, for your lives!” shouted the boatswain. “Range our spare cable! Get the second bower-anchor from the hold!—Now you, Ali Tomba, see that your men work,” he added, turning to the serang.
The English seamen worked away energetically; but in the dark it was a difficult business to get up the heavy anchor and chain cable. The Lascars were apparently assisting as zealously as the rest of the crew. Some accident or other was, however, continually occurring; and before the anchor could be got up and the cable ranged, the ship was in the centre of the channel, driving away at a rapid rate out to sea. At length the anchor was got ready for letting go. Scarcely, however, had it been got over the bows than with a loud splash it fell into the water free of the chain.
“Ali Tomba, you or your people have played us that trick!” exclaimed the boatswain.