dark, and
the din of the gale sounded like fifty railway locomotives whistling in
unison, and the brig was only revealed to the brave fellows by the white
light of the foam-whipped sea, they ran the boat under the counter, and
stood by while a number of women and children jumped, or were pitched
overboard, to them. These were quickly rescued, and then that boat, too,
vanished.

Again the wind lulled for about five minutes, and Hayes and old Harry
Terry urged the rest of the remaining women to jump overboard and make
for the shore, as the brig's decks were now awash, and every third or
fourth sea swept along her, fore and aft, with irresistible force. One
woman--a stout, powerfully-built native of Ocean Island--whose infant
child was lashed to her naked back with bands of coir cinnet, rushed up
to the captain, and crying, 'Kapeni, ka mate a mate '--('Captain, if I
die, I die')--put her arms round his neck, rubbed noses with him, and
leaped over the stern rail into the seething surf. She was found the
next morning lying dead on a little beach, having bled to death from the
wounds she had received from the jagged coral rocks, but the baby was
alive, for with her dying hands the poor creature had placed it under
shelter, and covered it over with grass and leaves, where it was found,
sleeping soundly, by a native sailor.

There was not now the slightest hope of saving the ship, unless the sea
went down; and Hayes, who was as cool as if he were taking his morning
coffee, told the rest of the crew, who were now all gathered together
aft, to get ashore the best way they could. Three of the white traders
were still aboard, awaiting the return of their boats, which, manned by
their faithful Pleasant Islanders, we now and again could dimly discern,
as they appeared on the summit of the heaving seas, waiting for a chance
to pull up astern and rescue their masters.

There were still two chests full of valuables in the main cabin to be
got on deck, and Lalia (sweet Lalia), the young woman of whom I have
before spoken, although her husband had gone ashore, refused to jump to
the boats, and said she would stay and help us to save them.

'Go, ashore, Lalia. Go to your husband,' said Hayes, sternly pushing her
to the stern rail; 'he is an old man, and cannot come off again in his
boat for you. Perhaps he is drowned.'

The girl laughed and said it was all the better--she would get another
and a younger husband; she would stay with th