ON THE ROCKS. 307 



Matters for some time continuing thus, the sailors and some of the deck passengers 

 exerted themselves, and were engaged in endeavouring with buckets to lighten the vessel 

 of some of the water in the hold ; and, after several hours' hard work, they so far succeeded 

 (the pumps all the while kept going) as to be able early on Saturday afternoon to get up 

 steam again. 



A passenger pointed out a bay, which he said was Roberts' Cove, and recommended 

 the captain to run the vessel in there, as there was a boat harbour in it, and beach her. 

 The captain said that he did not think there was a harbour there that, at all events, 

 it would be impossible to make it. The vessel was all this time drifting nearer the rock 

 on which she ultimately struck ; and in about an hour after the passenger had given the 

 recommendation alluded to, the captain got the vessel round, and endeavoured to make 

 Roberts' Cove. Just as he had got her before the wind, however, she was pooped by a 

 tremendous sea, which carried away the taffrail, staunchions, the wheel (and two men who 

 worked it), the companion, the binnacle, and the breakwater. The two steersmen fortunately 

 caught part of the rigging, and were saved ; but the sea which did the damage carried away 

 the bulwarks, with some of the steerage passengers, who were standing near the funnel, 

 and cleared the deck of all the pigs that were on it. 



In consequence of all the hands having endeavoured to save themselves, the vessel was 

 left to herself, and continued to strike piecemeal on several minor rocks, as she was driven 

 before the fury of the waves over them with a clap a crash resembling thunder carrying 

 off at each stroke one or more human beings, together with some portion of deck, deck 

 furniture, deck trimmings, rigging, &c. To hear the wrenching of the vessel, now between 

 the roaring billows and the rock, together with the cries of the sufferers, was soul-piercing 

 in the extreme. 



It was absurd to think, even for a moment, of lowering the quarter-boats, the tempest 

 raged so furiously. Previously to the vessel striking on the rock which rent her asunder, 

 and upon which she went to pieces, passengers and seamen all ran up for self-preservation 

 on the quarter-deck. A terrible rush was then made for this, their last resource; and 

 catching his child, Doctor Spolasco held him in his arms, and he clung close round his 

 neck with all the strength of his little embrace, looking imploringly in his face for 

 protection, and, as if foreseeing his fate, said, " Papa, kiss me ! Papa, kiss me ! We are- 

 all lost ! " 



The last moment approached. The crisis was at hand. Struggling on with his beloved 

 charge, the doctor sprang forward with him, clasping him closely to his breast, and, creeping 

 on his hand and knees, dragged his child along under one arm, while he held by the frag- 

 ments of the bulwarks, shifting his hand from splinter to splinter, until he slowly and gradually 

 reached the stern, the heavens lowering, the tempest raging, and the billows washing over 

 them, drenched to the skin, and every instant gasping for breath, the waves suffocating 

 them, the billows every instant beating against them. 



Some time previously to this both passengers and crew knew not how to act or what 

 to attempt to secure their safety, such was the distraction of their minds. The direction 

 of the vessel was no longer thought of or attended to; each individual holding on by 

 anything that he could possibly grasp for temporary safety with one hand, while he was seen 



