right out of the bolt ropes, so great was the force of the wind, and such the fury of the gale.
The fore mast was then cut away; the fore yard was converted into a drag and got overboard; bits of canvas also were spread in the rigging aft, hoping by these expedients, as a last resort, to bring the ship head to wind; but all to no purpose—she refused to come.
Crew and passengers worked manfully, pumping and baling all Friday afternoon and night, and when day dawned upon them, the violence of the storm was still increasing.
All that energy, professional skill, and seamanship could do to weather the storm and save the ship had been done. The tempest was still raging, resources were exhausted, the working parties were fagged out, and the Captain foresaw that his ship must go down.
Still there was some cause for hope: he might save life, even if he lost ship, mails, and treasure. He was in a frequented area of the ocean, and a passing vessel might come to the rescue of crew and passengers if they could manage to keep the ship afloat till the gale abated. He encouraged them with this hope, and asked for a rally. They responded with cheers. The lady passengers also offered to help, and the men went to work with a will, whipping up water by the barrelful to the steady measure of the sailors' working song.
The flag was hoisted union down, so that every vessel as she hove in sight might know they were in distress and wanted help.
Under this rally of crew and passengers they gained on the water for a little while; but they were worn out with the trial of the last night and day—they had not the strength to keep it under.
Finally, about noon of Saturday the 12th, the gale began to abate and the sky to brighten. A vessel hove in sight, saw the signal of distress, ran down to the steamer, was hailed, answered, and was asked for help; she could give none, and kept on her course.
At about 2 p.m. the brig 'Marine', Captain Burt, of Boston, bound from the West Indies to N.Y., heard minute-guns, and
