Her headway now shortened, I steadied the
helm, keeping the sails just lifting, while we glided obliquely
toward the land. To have run off before the wind - an easy
thing - would have been almost instant destruction, owing to a curve of
the reef in that direction. At this time, the Dane and the steward
were still struggling with the furious Mowree, and the others were
running about irresolute and shouting.
But darting forward the instant I had the helm, the old cook thundered
on the forecastle with a handspike, "Breakers! breakers close
aboard! - 'bout ship! 'bout ship!"
Up came the sailors, staring about them in stupid horror.
"Haul back the head-yards!" "Let go the lee fore-brace!" "Beady about!
about!" were now shouted on all sides; while distracted by a thousand
orders, they ran hither and thither, fairly panic-stricken.
It seemed all over with us; and I was just upon the point of throwing
the ship full into the wind (a step, which, saving us for the
instant, would have sealed our fate in the end), when a sharp cry
shot by my ear like the flight of an arrow.
