ere are no lines which speak more
forcibly to the imagination, or prove the beauty and power of the Greek
poet, than those in the noble prayer of Ajax:

"Lord of earth and air,
O king! O father! hear my humble prayer.
Dispel this cloud, that light of heaven restore;
Give me to see--and Ajax asks no more,
If Greece must perish--we Thy will obey;
But _let us perish in the face of day_!"

Oswald gave the helm to two of the seamen, and with his knife cut adrift
the axes, which were lashed round the mizen-mast in painted canvas
covers. One he retained for himself,--the others he put into the hands
of the boatswain and the second mate. To speak so as to be heard was
almost impossible, from the tremendous roaring of the wind; but the lamp
still burned in the binnacle, and by its feeble light Captain Ingram
could distinguish the signs made by the mate, and could give his
consent. It was necessary that the ship should be put before the wind;
and the helm had no power over her. In a short time the lanyards of the
mizen rigging were severed, and the mizen-mast went over the side,
almost unperceived by the crew on the other parts of the deck, or even
those near, had it not been from blows received by those who were too
close to it, from the falling of the topsail-sheets and the rigging
about the mast.

Oswald, with his companions, regained the binnacle, and for a little
while watched the compass. The ship did not pay off, and appeared to
settle down more into the water. Again Oswald made his signs, and again
the captain gave his assent. Forward sprang the undaunted mate,
clinging to the bulwark and belaying-pins, and followed by his hardy
companions, until they had all three gained the main channels. Here,
their exposure to the force of the breaking waves, and the stoutness of
the ropes yielding but slowly to the blows of the axes, which were used
almost under water, rendered the service one of extreme difficulty and
danger. The boatswain was washed over the bulwark and dashed to
leeward, where the lee-rigging only saved him from a watery grave.
Unsubdued, he again climbed up to windward, rejoined and assisted his
companions. The last blow was given by Oswald--the lanyards flew
through the dead-eyes--and the tall mast disappeared in the foaming
seas. Oswald and his companions hastened from their dangerous position,
and rejoined the captain, who, with many of the crew, still remained
near the wheel. The