The storm now raged furiously, the lightning was accompanied by loud
peals of thunder, and the children awoke and cried with fright, till
they were hushed to sleep again. The wind howled as it pressed with all
its violence against the tents, while the rain poured off in torrents.
One moment the canvas of the tents would bulge in, and the cords which
held it strain and crack; at another, an eddy of wind would force out
the canvas, which would flap and flap, while the rain found many an
entrance. The tent in which Mrs. Seagrave and the children reposed was
on the outside of the others, and therefore the most exposed. About
midnight the wind burst on them with greater violence than before. A
loud crash was heard by Ready and Mr. Seagrave, followed by the shrieks
of Mrs. Seagrave and Juno; the pegs of the tent had given way, and the
inmates were exposed to the fury of the elements. Ready rushed out,
followed by Mr. Seagrave and William. So strong was the wind and
beating rain, and such was the darkness, that it was with some
difficulty that by their united efforts the women and children could be
extricated. Tommy was the first taken up by Ready: his courage had all
gone, and he was bellowing furiously. William took Albert in charge and
carried him into the other tent, where Tommy sat in his wet shirt
roaring most melodiously. Juno, Mrs. Seagrave, and the little girl were
at last carried away and taken into the other tent: fortunately no one
was hurt, although the frightened children could not be pacified, and
joined in chorus with Tommy. Nothing more could be done except to put
the children into bed, and then the whole party sat up the remainder of
the night listening to the noise of the wind, the roaring of the sea,
and the loud patter of the rain against the canvas. At dawn of day,
Ready went out, and found that the gale had spent its force, and had
already much abated; but it was not one of those bright glorious
mornings to which they had been accustomed since their arrival at the
island: the sky was still dark, and the clouds were chasing each other
wildly; there was neither sun nor blue sky to be seen: it still rained,
but only at intervals, and the earth was soft and spongy; the little
cove, but the day before so beautiful, was now a mass of foaming and
tumultuous waves, and the surf was thrown many yards upon the beach:
the horizon was confused - you could not distinguish the line between
the water and the sky, and the whole shore of the island was lined with
a white foam. Ready turned his eyes to where the ship had been fixed on
the rocks: it was no longer there - the whole frame had disappeared;
but the fragments of it, and the contents of the holds, were floating
about in every direction, or tossing amongst the surf on the beach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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