Of course we had to pay considerable attention to the raft, which at times tossed and pitched in a fashion that made me sick all over, and rendered it necessary to hold on tightly to prevent being swept overboard.
For two hours the storm continued without showing any signs of abating. By this time we were wet to the skin and shivering with the cold.
"Now we've got water, I wish it would clear off," remarked Phil, as he stood holding fast to the mast.
"So do I. It's no fun thinking that any moment we may be swept overboard."
"Hope the jolly-boat is out in it," he continued. "Captain Hannock deserves all the ducking a-going."
"He can't be to land yet. Wonder if all the sailors are with him?"
"I suppose so. I'm sure there wasn't a soul left on the ship."
Instead of letting up, the sky grew darker and the wind increased in fury. The Hasty bounded up and down over the mighty swells, and many were the times that I thought our last moment had come. Yet each time the clumsy raft righted herself, ready to battle with the next wave.
Not without considerable danger I managed to tie
