A fourth swept away the figurehead and signal light. The rudder only was
left.

To replace the ship's bow lantern they set fire to, and suspended at the
stem, a large block of wood covered with oakum and tar.

The mast, broken in two, all bristling with quivering splinters, ropes,
blocks, and yards, cumbered the deck. In falling it had stove in a plank
of the starboard gunwale. The skipper, still firm at the helm,
shouted,--

"While we can steer we have yet a chance. The lower planks hold good.
Axes, axes! Overboard with the mast! Clear the decks!"

Both crew and passengers worked with the excitement of despair. A few
strokes of the hatchets, and it was done. They pushed the mast over the
side. The deck was cleared.

"Now," continued the skipper, "take a rope's end and lash me to the
helm." To the tiller they bound him.

While they were fastening him he laughed, and shouted,--

"Blow, old hurdy-gurdy, bellow. I've seen your equal off Cape
Machichaco."

And when secured he clutched the helm with that strange hilarity which
danger awakens.

"All goes well, my lads. Long live our Lady of Buglose! Let us steer