Between five and six o’clock, it began to grow light. The position of the vessels was completely altered. Forced from their moorings, they were drifting toward the inner reef. Each contended stubbornly with the storm. Volumes of black smoke poured from the furnaces of the quivering hulls. A number of the sailing vessels were already on the reef. Fragments of wreckage began to be tossed ashore. The _Trenton_ and _Vandalia_, being farthest out in the harbor, were scarcely visible through the mist and spray. The large iron hulls were tossed about like corks. Wave after wave dashed over their decks. The men swarmed about the masts and the lower rigging, clinging to anything they could grasp. The _Eber_, _Adler_ and _Nipsic_ were within a few yards of each other and close on the fatal reef. Each vessel seemed as though endowed with a life of its own. They struggled like wild creatures; as the stag might struggle in the clutch of a panther. The _Eber_ slowly retreated toward the reef, contesting every inch. Suddenly she paused, recovered, and dashed forward into the teeth of the furious storm. It was her last desperate sally. The current bore her to the right. In a moment she collided with the _Nipsic_, her bow carrying away a boat and several feet of the post-quarter rail. Falling back, she fouled with the _Olga_, and her rudder was carried away. This left her helpless. Swinging broadside to the wind, she lay a few moments rolling heavily in the trough of the sea. Over her deck the surf foamed and roared. At length, a gigantic wave lifted her up and hurled her with awful force upon the reef. Striking fairly on her keel, she heeled over toward the sea. No further trace of her was seen. Every timber must have been shattered. Doubtless more of her crew were crushed than were drowned. The horror-stricken natives, accustomed to the sea from infancy, dashed into the surf, struggling with death for the lives of their late oppressors. They were but savages; they knew no better. For a few moments, not a hand was raised from the site of the wreck. At length, a few faintly struggling forms appeared in the surf. They were grasped by eager hands, and safely reached the shore. Another was seen clinging to the piling of a small wharf, beaten half senseless by the furious waves. He was drawn ashore. It was a handsome boyish-faced lieutenant, the sole surviving officer. Out of a total force of seventy-six men and officers on the _Eber_, five only were saved. The young lieutenant was the officer of the watch at the time of the wreck. The others were all below, and must have been crushed to death. This occurred about six o’clock in the morning. Finding no other survivors, those on shore turned to the remaining vessels once more. Their position had changed again. The situation rapidly grew more perilous.