k, violent rocking motion,
unlike any thing I had ever felt, even in the heaviest storm.

"An airthquake, I guess," said Captain Snaggs, nonchalantly; "thet is,
if thaar's sich a thing ez an airthquake at sea!"

He sniggered over this joke; but, just then, I heard the same strange,
weird music, like Sam's banjo, played gently in the distance, similarly
to what we heard before the burst of the storm off Cape Horn.

"Lord, save us!" cried the captain, in hoarse accents of terror. "Thaar
it air agen!"

Even as he spoke, however, the ship seemed to be lifted aloft on a huge
rolling wave, that came up astern of us without breaking; and, then,
after being carried forwards with wonderful swiftness, she was hurled
bodily on the shore of some unknown land near, whose outlines we could
not distinguish through the impenetrable darkness that now surrounded us
like a veil.

We knew we were ashore, however, for we could feel a harsh, grating
noise under the vessel's keel.

Still, beyond and above this noise, I seemed yet to hear the wild, sad
chaunt that haunted us.

There was a light hung in the galley, and I looked in again to see if
the negro's banjo was in its accustomed place, so as to judge whether
the sound was due to my imagination or not.

Holding up the lantern, I flashed its light across the roof of the
galley.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

Sam's banjo was no longer there!

CHAPTER TEN.

ABINGDON ISLAND.

After the first grating, grinding shock of going ashore, the ship did
not bump again; but, listing over to port, she settled down quietly,
soon working a sort of cradle bed for herself in the sand at the spot
where she stranded.

This, at least, was our conclusion, from the absence of any subsequent
motion or movement on board, the deck being as steady now as any
platform on dry land, although rather downhill on one side, from the
vessel heeling as she took the ground.

However, it was all guess work, as we could see nothing, not even our
own faces, save when brought immediately under the light of the galley
lantern, around which all the hands forward were closely huddled
together, like a drove of frightened sheep; for, the darkness could be
almost felt, as it hung over the ill-fated _Denver City_, a thick,
impenetrable, black pall, that seemed ominous of evil and further
disaster.

This continued for nearly an hour; the men near me only speaking in
hushed whispers, as if afraid of hearing