The vessel was now, for the first time during the fire, stationary.  The common mariners profited by the circumstance, and, darting past the mounting flame along the bulwarks, they gained the top-gallant-forecastle, which though heated was yet untouched.  The Skimmer glanced an eye about him, and seizing Seadrift by the waist, as if the mimic seaman had been a child, he pushed forward between the ridge-ropes.  Ludlow followed with Alida, and the others intimated their example in the best manner they could.  All reached the head of the ship in safety; though Ludlow had been driven by the flames into the fore-channels, and thence nearly into the sea.

The petty officers were already on the floating spars, separating them from each other, cutting away the unnecessary weight of rigging, bringing the several parts of the wood in parallel lines, and lashing them anew.  Ever and anon, these rapid movements were quickened by one of those fearful signals from the officers’ berths, which, by announcing the progress of the flames beneath, betrayed their increasing proximity to the still-slumbering volcano.  The boats had been gone an hour, and yet it seemed, to all in the ship, but a minute.  The conflagration had, for the last ten minutes, advanced with renewed fury; and the whole of the confined flame, which had been so long pent in the depths of the vessel now glared high in the open air.

“This heat can no longer be borne,” said Ludlow; “we must to our raft, for breath.”

“To the raft then!” returned the cheerful voice of the free-trader.  “Haul in upon your fasts, men, and stand by to receive the precious freight.”

The seamen obeyed.  Alida and her companions were lowered safely to the place prepared for then reception.  The fore-mast had gone over the side, with all its spars aloft; for preparation had been made, before the fire commenced, to carry sail to the utmost, in order to escape the enemy.  The skilful and active seamen, directed and aided by Ludlow and the Skimmer, had made a simple but happy disposition of those boy ant materials on which their all now depended.  In settling in the water, the yards, still crossed, had happily fallen uppermost.  The booms and all the light spars had been floated near the top, and laid across, reaching from the lower to the top-sail-yard.  A few light spars, stowed outboard, had been cut away and added to the number, and the whole were secured with the readiness and ingenuity of seamen.  On the first alarm of fire, some of the crew had seized a few light articles that would float, and rushed to the head, as the place most remote from the magazine, in the blind hope of saving life by swimming.  Most of these articles had been deserted, when the people were rallied to exertion by their officers.  A couple of empty shot-boxes and a mess-chest were among them, and on the latter were seated the females, while the former served to keep their feet from the water.  As the arrangement of the spars forced