It was wonderful how the ship pitched!  Frequently her Aurora was completely submerged, and tons of water would come in upon the forecastle, washing entirely aft at the next send, so that our only means of keeping above water was to stand on the windlass-bitts, or to get upon the heart of the main-stay.  Dry we were not, nor did we think of attempting to be so, but such expedients were necessary to enable us to remain stationary; often to enable us to breathe.  I no longer wondered at the manner in which the cutter and frigate had examined our position.  It was quite clear the fishermen knew very little about finding a proper berth for a ship, and that we might pretty nearly as well have brought up in the middle of St. George’s channel, could our ground-tackle reach the bottom, as to have brought up where we were.

Just about nine o’clock, Marble and I had got near each other on the fife-rail, and held a consultation on the subject of our prospects.  Although we both clung to the same top-sail-sheet, we were obliged to hallow to make ourselves heard, the howling of the wind through the rigging converting the hamper into a sort of tremendous Eolian Harp, while the roar of the water kept up a species of bass accompaniment to this music of the ocean.  Marble was the one who had brought about this communication, and he was the first to speak.

“I say, Miles,” he called out, his mouth within three feet of my ear—­“she jumps about like a whale with a harpoon in it!  I’ve been afraid she’d jerk the stem out of her.”

“Not much fear of that, Moses—­my great concern is that starboard bower-cable; it has a good deal more strain on it than the larboard, and you can see how the strands are stretched.”

“Ay, ay—­’t is generalizing its strength, as one may say.  S’pose we clap the helm a-port, and try the effects of a sheer?”

“I’ve thought of that; as there is a strong tide going, it may possibly answer”—­

These words were scarcely out of my mouth, when three seas of enormous height came rolling down upon us, like three great roistering companions in a crowd of sullen men, the first of which raised the Dawn’s bows so high in the air, as to cause us both to watch the result in breathless silence.  The plunge into the trough was in a just proportion to the toss into the air; and I felt a surge, as if something gave way under the violent strain that succeeded.  The torrent of water that came on the forecastle prevented any thing from being seen; but again the bows rose, again they sunk, and then the ship seemed easier.

“We are all adrift, Miles!” Marble shouted, leaning forward to be heard.  “Both bowers have snapped like thread, and here we go, head-foremost, in for the land!”