"Tell me where and how I can help," Murray offered. His first
thought had been of the possible effect of this catastrophe upon
his plans, for time was pressing. As for danger, he had looked
upon it so often and in so many forms that it had little power to
stir him; but a shipwreck, which would halt his northward rush,
was another matter. Whether the ship sank or floated could make
little difference, now that the damage had been done. She was
crippled and would need assistance. His fellow-passengers, he
knew, were safe enough. Fortunately there were not many of them--
a scant two hundred, perhaps--and if worse came to worst there
was room in the life-boats for all. But the Nebraska had no
watertight bulkheads and the plight of his twenty horses between
decks filled him with alarm and pity. There were no life-boats
for those poor dumb animals penned down yonder in the rushing
waters.

Brennan had stepped into the chart-room, but returned in a moment
to say:

"There's no place to beach her this side of Halibut Bay."

"How far is that?"

"Five or six miles."

"You'll--have to beach her?"

"I'm afraid so. She feels queer."

Up from the cabin deck came a handful of men passengers to