The hapless _Phoenix_ endured it tenaciously, but the odds were too great for her. When she tried to rise and shake her decks free of the gigantic combers, they smashed her with incessant blows. The stout sails were flying out of the gaskets that bound them to the yards. The staunch wooden hull was opening like a basket. The ship was literally being pounded to pieces. Sir Hyde Parker, lashed near the kicking wheel, where four brawny quartermasters sweated as they endeavored to steer the dying frigate, was heard to shout: “My God! To think that the wind could have such force!” There was a terrific racket below decks, and fearing that one of the guns might have broken adrift from its tackles, Lieutenant Archer clambered into the gloomy depths, where a marine officer hailed him, announcing: “Mr. Archer, we are sinking. The water is up to the bottom of my cot. All the cabins are awash and the people flooded out.” “Pooh! pooh!” was the cheery answer, “as long as it is not over your mouth you are well off. What the devil are you making all this noise about?” The unterrified Archer found much water between decks, “but nothing to be alarmed at,” and he told the watch below to turn to at the pumps, shouting at them: “Come pump away, my lads! Will you twiddle your thumbs while she drowns the lot of you? Carpenters, get the weather chain-pump rigged.” “Already, sir.” “Then man it, and keep both pumps going. The ship is so distressed that she merely comes up for air now and then. Everything is swept clean but the quarterdeck.” Presently one of the pumps choked, and the water gained in the hold, but soon the bluejackets were swinging at the brakes again, while Lieutenant Archer stood by and cheered them on. A carpenter’s mate came running up to him with a face as long as his arm and shouted: “Oh, sir, the ship has sprung a leak in the gunner’s room.” “Go, then, and tell the carpenter to come to me, but don’t say a word about it to any one else.” When the carpenter came tumbling aft he was told: “Mr. Goodenow, I am informed there is a leak in the gunner’s room. Do you go and see what is the matter, but don’t alarm anybody and come and make your report privately to me.” “Sir, there is nothing there,” announced the trusty carpenter, a few minutes later. “’Tis only the water washing up between the timbers that this booby has taken for a leak.” “Oh, very well, go up on deck and see if you can keep the water from washing down below.” “Sir, I have four people constantly keeping the hatchways secure, but there is such a weight of water upon the deck that nobody can stand it when the ship rolls.” Just then the gunner appeared to add his bit of news. “I thought some confounded thing was the matter, and ran directly,” wrote Lieutenant Archer. “Well, what is the trouble here?”