SAILING CRAFT 123 



leeward cannot be seen except when both ships 

 are topping the crest. Wherever you look 

 there seems to be an endless earthquake of 

 mountainous waves, with spuming volcanoes 

 of their own, and vast, abysmal craters yawn- 

 ing from the depths. The Victoria begins 

 to labour. The wind and water seem to be 

 gaining on her every minute. She groans in 

 every part of her sorely racked hull ; while up 

 aloft the hurricane roars, rings, and screeches 

 through the rigging. 



But suddenly there is a new and far more 

 awful sound, which seems to still all others, 

 as a stupendous mother wave rears its huge, 

 engulfing bulk astern. On it comes, faster 

 and higher, its cavernous hollow roaring 

 and its overtopping crest snarling viciously 

 as it turns forward, high above the poop. 

 ' Hold on for your lives ! ' shout the mates 

 and skipper. They are not a moment 

 too soon. The sails are blanketed, and 

 the ship seems as if she was actually being 

 drawn, stern first, into the very jaws of the 

 sea. A shuddering pause . . . and then, with 

 a stunning crash, the whole devouring mass 

 bursts full on deck. The stricken Victoria reels 

 under the terrific shock, and then lies dead 

 another anxious minute, utterly helpless, her 



