Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them.
The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of
chaff. Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel and swung in behind
it. But a strapping Rarotonga vahine[1]--she must have weighed
two hundred and fifty--brought up against him and got an arm
around his neck. He clutched the Kanaka steersman with his other
hand. And just at that moment the schooner flung down to
starboard. The rush of bodies and the sea that was coming along
the port runway between the cabin and the rail, turned abruptly
and poured to starboard. Away they went, vahine, Ah Choon, and
steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon grin at me with philosophic
resignation as he cleared the rail and went under.


[1] woman


The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much
damage. By the time it arrived, nearly everybody was in the
rigging. On deck perhaps a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and
half-stunned wretches were rolling about or attempting to crawl
into safety. They went by the board, as did the wreckage of the
two remaining boats. The other pearl-buyers and myself, between
seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children into the
cabin and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures in
the end.

Wind? Out of all my experiences I could not have believed it
possible for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing
it. How can one describe a nightmare? It was the same way with