We left the brigantine of Capt. Spike in a very critical situation,
and the master himself in great confusion of mind.

A thorough seaman, this accident would never have happened, but for
the sudden appearance of the boat and its passengers; one of whom
appeared to be a source of great uneasiness to him. As might be
expected, the circumstance of striking a place as dangerous as the
Pot Rock in Hell-Gate, produced a great sensation on board the
vessel. This sensation betrayed itself in various ways, and
according to the characters, habits, and native firmness of the
parties. As for the ship-master's relict, she seized hold of the
main-mast, and screamed so loud and perseveringly, as to cause the
sensation to extend itself into the adjacent and thriving village of
Astoria, where it was distinctly heard by divers of those who dwelt
near the water. Biddy Noon had her share in this clamour, lying down
on the deck in order to prevent rolling over, and possibly to scream
more at her leisure, while Rose had sufficient self-command to be
silent, though her cheeks lost their colour.

Nor was there anything extraordinary in females betraying this
alarm, when one remembers the somewhat astounding signs of danger by
which these persons were surrounded. There is always something
imposing in the swift movement of a considerable body of water. When
this movement is aided by whirlpools and the other similar
accessories of an interrupted current, it frequently becomes
startling, more especially to those who happen to be on the element
itself. This is peculiarly the case with the Pot Rock, where, not
only does the water roll and roar as if agitated by a mighty wind,