None of the boat's crew noticed the rapidly approaching change of weather. Loyola had her back turned to the heavy squall rising so rapidly, and neither Broncho nor Jim perceived it until the blind man cried suddenly, "I smell wind!" One glance was enough. Up sprang Loyola, and, seizing the steering-oar, with one long stroke she swept the boat's head round. Then with a screech the wind fell upon them. The boat gave a violent lurch and lay down to it, the water pouring in over the gunwale. Broncho and Jim, taken completely by surprise, were tumbled to leeward on top of the bosun's mate, who was half drowned before they could extricate themselves, whilst Jack was awkwardly groping about in a vain effort to get in the awning. The woman steered superbly, and her clear voice rang like a bell above the squall as she called to Bill to get hold of the sheet before the sail flogged itself to rags. The rain fell in solid sheets, and the sea hissed as it beat upon it. The boat, rushing madly before the wind, rocked wildly, and dipped her rail under at each roll; whilst Jack, in a foot of water, baled furiously to keep pace with the rain; the other four struggled desperately with the maddened sail. Loyola, hanging on to the long oar with her strong young arms, stood swaying gracefully to the motion of the boat, as, calm and watchful, she held it steady. The sunshine fled below the horizon to the south-east, chased by a mass of heavy, threadbare clouds, which came pelting across the sky. The sail was quickly muzzled and close-reefed, and Loyola cautiously brought the wind on to the quarter, feeling its strength with practised hand. But it was more than the brave boat could stand, and a sea washed over the rail which nearly filled her. "Down that sail!" yelled Jack, whilst he and Jim baled with furious energy. "Down that sail!" After the first tremendous downpour the rain fell steadily, but with less weight. Meanwhile both wind and sea commenced to rise, and though the whaleboat rode the big rollers splendidly, many of the smaller waves slopped aboard and kept the balers hard at work. With the sail off her, Loyola swung the boat's head up into the wind, and held her with the steering-oar from falling off. "Lemme relieve you, ma'm," called the man-of-war's man, clambering aft. "I'm all right," answered the plucky woman. "Give the balers a spell." "What's the glass say?" jerked out the blind man, panting with his exertions. "Phew! but it's low, an' dropping too," replied Bill, squinting into the face of a small aneroid which they had saved from the _Ocmulgee_. "Can you see under the squall?" "No, it's black now, clear round the horizon." "Wind seems to me to be increasing," commented Jack, feeling its strength with his face. "It's just like the start of that blow we had in the _Moonbeam_ off Rarotonga," called Loyola.