"You shall hear," continued the captain, leisurely sipping his grog. "Our skipper lost his head. I do believe we might have run over the bar, and, at all events, the crew have been saved, but no,--all went against us. He let go his third anchor on the bar itself. Wood and iron could not stand the fearful sea running there. She struck right between the breakwaters, the sea dashing clean over her, and the brig thumping heavily. The masts went over the side, and at last one enormous wave turned her over on her broadside, we clinging to the upper bulwarks. It was a fearful sight, for we could see the lights moving about on shore close to us. The hurricane never diminished, and the seas made a clean breach over us, carrying away from time to time some of the crew. We held on our best, for, so near land, we could not think we should be left to perish, but we waited in vain." "Could not a lifeboat live in that sea?" asked Hughes. "Ay, ay, but the lubbers had none, and for anything I know have not got one yet. Lashed to the bulwarks, we waited for help all through that fearful night, but when the grey light of day came, we saw that there was no hope. I and a sailor named Hesketh determined to take our chance. We lashed ourselves to a stout spar each, and tried hard to persuade the others to do as much, but they would not. The captain was nearly speechless, and did not seem to know what he was doing. It was a fearful moment when we two threw ourselves into the raging ocean." "You could both swim, I suppose?" asked Hughes. "Ay, ay; we could swim, but what use was swimming in such a sea? The first wave rolled us over and over, like corks, but could not sink us. We remained several hours in the water, every moment expecting death. I was insensible most of the time." "Did you remain near each other?" "No, after the last shake of the hand as we jumped overboard, we parted company. Two lads found me rolled on the beach like a log, and help being forthcoming I was kindly treated and restored, but it was weeks before I could get about. The sailor, Hesketh, was a good deal bruised, but managed better than I did." "And the captain and remaining crew?" inquired Hughes. "Perished. Not a trace of the brig remained. Captain Bell, belonging to the port, and Captain Wilson of the Point, the landing agents, and other authorities, had fires lit, and did what they could, but there was no lifeboat, and save myself and Hesketh, brig and crew went to Davy Jones's locker, stock and block." "I can easily conceive your antipathy to an anchorage at Port Natal during a gale of wind," remarked his hearer.