"That cloud, Miss Harding," he answered. "We're in for a
bad blow, and it'll be on us in a minute," and with that he
started forward on a run, calling back over his shoulder,
"you'd better go below at once."
CHAPTER VII
THE TYPHOON
THE storm that struck the Halfmoon took her entirely
unaware. It had sprung, apparently, out of a perfectly clear sky.
Both the lookout and the man at the wheel were ready to take
oath that they had scanned the horizon not a half-minute
before Second Mate Theriere had come racing forward bellowing
for all hands on deck and ordering a sailor below to
report the menacing conditions to Captain Simms.
Before that officer reached the deck Theriere had the entire
crew aloft taking in sail; but though they worked with the
desperation of doomed men they were only partially successful
in their efforts.
The sky and sea had assumed a sickly yellowish color,
except for the mighty black cloud that raced toward them, low
over the water. The low moaning sound that had followed the
first appearance of the storm, gave place to a sullen roar, and
then, of a sudden, the thing struck the Halfmoon, ripping her
remaining canvas from her as if it had been wrought from tissue
paper, and with the flying canvas, spars, and cordage went
the mainmast, snapping ten feet above the deck, and crashing
over the starboard bow with a noise and jar that rose above
the bellowing of the typhoon.
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