336 THE LAST SCENE OF ALL. 



hours a great storm is agitating the bosom of the wondrous 

 deep. The fishermen become alarmed ; hasty preparations are 

 made to return, nets are hauled on board, sails are set and 

 dashed about by the pitiless winds, forcing the boats to seek 

 the nearest haven. Soon the hurricane bursts in relentless 

 fury ; the fleet of fishing-boats toss wildly on the maddening 

 waves; gloomy clouds spread like a pall over the scene; 

 while on the coast the waters break with ravening fury, 

 and many a strong-built boat is dashed to atoms on the 

 iron rocks in the sight of those who are powerless to aid, 

 and many a gallant soul spent in death, within a span 

 of the firm-set earth. Morning, so eagerly prayed for by 

 the disconsolate ones, who have all the long and miserable 

 night been watching from the land, at length slowly dawns, 

 and reveals a shore covered with fragments of wood and 

 clothes, which too surely indicate the disasters of the night. 

 The dSbris of boats and nets lie scattered on the rocks 

 and boulders, dumb talebearers that bring sorrow and chili 

 penury to many a household. Anxious children and gaunt 

 women — 



" Wives and mithers maist despalrin' " — 



with questioning eyes, rush wildly about the shore, piercing 

 with their frightened looks the hidden secrets of the subsiding 

 waters ; and here and there a manly form, grim and stark and 

 cold, cold in the icy embrace of death, his pale brow bound 

 with wreaths of matted seaweed, gives silent token of the 

 majesty of the storm. 



