With a wild leap, like the leap of a man suddenly shot, the captain left
her side and rushed on to the bridge. At the same instant the
engine-bell rang and the steering-chains began to rattle furiously on
the rollers at her feet as the steam steering-gear did its work. Then
came another yell--

"_It's a whaler!--no lights_!" and an answering shriek of terror from
some big black object that loomed ahead. Before the echoes had died away,
before the great ship could even answer to her helm, there was a crash,
such as Augusta had never heard, and a sickening shock, that threw her on
her hands and knees on the deck, shaking the iron masts till they
trembled as though they were willow wands, and making the huge sails flap
and for an instant fly aback. The great vessel, rushing along at her
frightful speed of seventeen knots, had plunged into the ship ahead with
such hideous energy that she cut her clean in two--cut her in two and
passed over her, as though she were a pleasure-boat!

Shriek upon shriek of despair came piercing the gloomy night, and then,
as Augusta struggled to her feet, she felt a horrible succession of
bumps, accompanied by a crushing, grinding noise. It was the Kangaroo
driving right over the remains of the whaler.

In a very few seconds it was done, and looking astern, Augusta could just
make out something black that seemed to float for a second or two upon
the water, and then disappear into its depths. It was the shattered hull
of the whaler.

Then there arose a faint murmuring sound, that grew first into a hum,
then into a roar, and then into a clamour that rent the skies, and up
from every hatchway and cabin in the great ship, human beings--men,