Bending over, Jack drove his strong teeth into the sail where his left hand had a grip; then with the weight on his jaw, he shifted his hand and groped for the bunt gasket, whilst Hank hurled furious profanity at the frightened gambler, who was hanging on to the jackstay to leeward, terrified, half-demented, quite useless. The card-sharper made no attempt to move from his position, and whilst Jack and Broncho passed the bunt gasket, Hank slid out along the footrope and, grasping the jackstay with his left hand, hit fiercely with his right at the face of the shirker. There is a grim work sometimes aloft in the raging of a gale, the work of heated blood and feelings overwrought by the cruel stress of the moment. The gambler flinched from the vicious blows and whimpered miserably. "The cur's no use, anyhow!" shouted Jack disdainfully, but Hank in his mad rage heeded him not. At last the sail was overcome; they swung themselves into the rigging and slowly descended, struggling against the fury of the wind. Each gust pinned them down as if spreadeagled, and it was a work of difficulty and arduous labour shifting their feet from one ratline to another. When they reached the deck they were streaming with perspiration and nearly dead beat with their terrific exertions, but the keen, chilly wind soon put new life into them. Paying no heed to the buffeting of the storm, the flying spume, or the pattering hail, they hastily hauled themselves along the weather rail in the pitch darkness, knowing by long experience of night work the geography of the ship. They found the rest of the crew gathered round the main fife-rail, about to haul up the main course. The lull had passed and the wind was once more shrieking over them in its mad turbulence. Hail, snow, and spindrift flew across the straining vessel in solid sheets, whilst on every side the torn-up sea lashed itself into smoking soap-suds, and in rushing breakers hurled itself to leeward. The ship, too heavily pressed under whole topsails and two courses, ploughed her way straight through the rising seas, taking whole mountains of green water over her weather rail forward which, pouring aft, kept the maindeck continually awash. A bright shaft of light from the carpenter's lamp suddenly flashed forth upon the wild scene, illuminating with its rays the group of sorely spent men amidships. Then it went out before the onslaught of the furious wind, and the darkness seemed greater than before. Muller, the German, was just slacking away the main-tack when a furious gust came; he lost his head at the wrong moment and the tack took charge. In a second pandemonium reigned. A frightful slating arose from the released sail, and the heavy block raged about at random, threatening death at every spring, whilst the great ninety-foot mainyard buckled like a bamboo cane.