The shrouds were broken, but happily
the mast, already bending almost double, was removed by the men
from its socket before it should be snapped short off. One gust
caught away the tiller, which went adrift beyond all power of
recovery, and the same blast blew down several of the planks that
formed the low parapet on the larboard side, so that the waves
dashed in without hindrance through the breach.
The carpenter and his mates tried to repair the damage, but,
tossed from wave to wave, the raft was inclined to an angle of
more than forty-five degrees, making it impossible for them to
keep their footing, and rolling one over another, they were
thrown down by the violent shocks. Why they were not altogether
carried away, why we were not all hurled into the sea, was to me
a mystery. Even if the cords that bound us should retain their
hold, it seemed perfectly incredible that the raft itself should
not be overturned, so that we should be carried down and stifled
in the seething waters.
At last, towards three in the morning, when the hurricane seemed
to be raging more fiercely than ever, the raft, caught up on the
crest of an enormous wave, stood literally perpendicularly on its
edge. For an instant, by the illumination of the lightning, we
beheld ourselves raised to an incomprehensible height above the
foaming breakers. Cries of terror escaped our lips. All must be
over now! But no; another moment, and the raft had resumed its
horizontal position.
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