Heavens, we were in them!  And then followed a couple of minutes of heart-breaking excitement such as I cannot hope to describe.  All that I remember is a shrieking sea of foam, out of which the billows rose here, there, and everywhere like avenging ghosts from their ocean grave.  Once we were turned right round, but either by chance, or through Mahomed’s skilful steering, the boat’s head came straight again before a breaker filled us.  One more—­a monster.  We were through it or over it—­more through than over—­and then, with a wild yell of exultation from the Arab, we shot out into the comparative smooth water of the mouth of sea between the teeth-like lines of gnashing waves.

But we were nearly full of water again, and not more than half a mile ahead was the second line of breakers.  Again we set to and bailed furiously.  Fortunately the storm had now quite gone by, and the moon shone brightly, revealing a rocky headland running half a mile or more out into the sea, of which this second line of breakers appeared to be a continuation.  At any rate, they boiled around its foot.  Probably the ridge that formed the headland ran out into the ocean, only at a lower level, and made the reef also.  This headland was terminated by a curious peak that seemed not to be more than a mile away from us.  Just as we got the boat pretty clear for the second time, Leo, to my immense relief, opened his eyes and remarked that the clothes had tumbled off the bed, and that he supposed it was time to get up for chapel.  I told him to shut his eyes and keep quiet, which he did without in the slightest degree realizing the position.  As for myself, his reference to chapel made me reflect, with a sort of sick longing, on my comfortable rooms at Cambridge.  Why had I been such a fool as to leave them?  This is a reflection that has several times recurred to me since, and with an ever-increasing force.

But now again we were drifting down on the breakers, though with lessened speed, for the wind had fallen, and only the current or the tide (it afterwards turned out to be the tide) was driving us.

Another minute, and with a sort of howl to Allah from the Arab, a pious ejaculation from myself, and something that was not pious from Job, we were in them.  And then the whole scene, down to our final escape, repeated itself, only not quite so violently.  Mahomed’s skilful steering and the air-tight compartments saved our lives.  In five minutes we were through, and drifting—­for we were too exhausted to do anything to help ourselves except keep her head straight—­with the most startling rapidity round the headland which I have described.