Up and down like corks bobbed the Brownies on the angry waves when their raft was so suddenly demolished by the storm. The blackness of the night was so intense that even with their supernatural vision they could not see each other save in those vivid streaks of lightning that came often and for a brief moment made all around as bright as day. The wild wind and waves bore them farther and farther apart from each other, so that it was every one for himself, which was against all principle in a band that delighted in mutual help. But in this case they could not give it. The water got in their noses and mouths, causing them to gasp, choke, and splutter, while their ears rang, and their eyes were nearly blinded. [Illustration] Desperately they clung to the splintered pieces of debris, to the dog-house that spun over and over, to the gate that turned upside down, or straddled logs that kept rolling with Brownies first up and then under like teetotums. [Illustration] And others, not so fortunate, with strength fast leaving them, still swam the waters seeking and groping in vain for some object to sustain them. Then, right in the midst of all their terrible danger, when hope was fast departing from all hearts, a wonderful thing happened. [Illustration] There came a sudden radiance that was not the lightning's flash, illuminating old Father Neptune and a bevy of lovely-faced dryads in a golden chariot that furiously galloping seahorses drew across the waves. In a brief space no longer than a second the God of the Sea and his beauteous attendants passed on out of sight, but almost with their disappearance the lightning and thunder ceased, as did the rain, the wind died down, the stars once more shone out, and the water grew as smooth as glass. When buffeted no longer by boisterous winds and waves the chance the Brownies had to save themselves increased immeasurably. [Illustration] They could now see and hear each other, and when some one swimming in the water called for help there were those on debris who reached over and pulled their exhausted comrade on board. They shouted at each other in the dark, and by using their feet as paddles contrived at last to bring whatever they floated on close together. Then King Stanislaus, who with Prince Florimel was a-straddle of a log, with much anxiety began to take an inventory of the band. To his infinite relief no one was missing but the Dude, but this misfortune in itself was enough to dampen their spirits, for the companion who had been carried off by the gigantic bird was very much beloved. "Aye, aye!" growled the Sailor, cocking his weather-eye out through the slats of the hen-coop. "We're all here, even to Euphrosyne's dove!" Thus on they went without further mishap, a queer-looking flotilla, keeping in as close proximity to each other as they could, using both hands and feet for paddles, and adopting many ingenious devices to complete the voyage so disastrously begun.