Suddenly there broke over the bows, where Bernt sat, a tremendous wave whose white crest Elias had long seen through the darkness.  It seemed to stop the whole boat for an instant, the timbers quivered and shook under its weight, and when the boat, which for a few seconds lay half-capsized, righted herself and went on her way again, it streamed out astern.  While this was happening, he fancied there were ghastly cries in the other boat.  But when it was over, his wife, who sat at the halliard, said in a voice that cut him to the heart:  “Good God!  Elias, that wave took Martha and Nils with it!”—­these were their youngest children, the former nine, the latter seven years old, who had been sitting in the bow, near Bernt.  To this Elias only answered:  “Don’t let go the rope, Karen, or you will lose more!”

It was now necessary to take in the fourth reef, and, when that was done, Elias found that the fifth ought to be taken in too, for the storm was increasing; yet in order to sail the boat free of the ever-increasing seas he dared not, on the other hand, take in more sail than was absolutely necessary.  But the little sail they could carry became gradually less and less.  The spray dashed in their faces, and Bernt and his next youngest brother Anton, who till now had helped his mother with the halliard, were at last obliged to hold the yard, an expedient resorted to when the boat cannot even bear to go with the last reef—­in this case the fifth.

The companion boat, which had in the meantime vanished, now suddenly appeared again beside them with exactly the same amount of sail as Elias’s boat; and he began rather to dislike the look of the crew on board of her.  The two men who stood there holding the yard, whose pale faces he could distinguish under the sou’westers, seemed to him, in the curious light from the breaking foam, more like corpses than living beings, and apparently they did not speak a word.

A little to windward he saw once more the high white crest of another huge wave coming through the dark, and he prepared for it in time.  The boat was laid with her stem in a slanting direction to it, and with as much sail as she could carry, in order to give her sufficient speed to cleave it and sail right through it.  In it rushed with the roar of a waterfall; again the boat half heeled over, and when the wave was past his wife no longer sat at the halliard, and Anton no longer stood holding the yard—­they had both gone overboard.

This time, too, Elias thought he heard the same horrible cries in the air; but in the midst of them he distinctly heard his wife calling his name in terror.  When he comprehended that she was washed overboard, he only said:  “In Jesus’ name!” and then was silent.  His inclination was to follow her, but he felt, too, that he must do what he could to save the rest of the freight he had on board—­namely, Bernt and his two other sons, the one twelve, the other fourteen, who had baled the boat for a time, but had now found a place in the stern behind their father.