Everything was confusion; the captain, springing into the first boat,
bade his men follow, leaving, beside Harry, but two worthless fellows,
who hardly knew a skysail from a jib-sheet, in charge of the ship. Harry
kept his eye upon the boats for hours; he perceived they were evidently
having a hard time of it. Running aft to get a glass, as they distanced
him, he discovered a fog had sprang up, and was shutting in heavily on
all sides; he returned to mark the boats; they were nowhere to be seen;
he had lost them entirely; nothing was to be seen on all sides but thick
fog banks! What was to be done? where they were, how far from the boats,
and in what direction, they knew not. The boy was aware that they were
all ignorant of the management of the ship, and what was worse, should
the least breeze spring up, they would be borne,--they knew not whither.
A couple of hours passed, and the fog did not lift. Night was coming on,
and from the increased darkness, together with a low, rumbling noise of
the sea, it was evident a storm was brewing. Harry anxiously walked the
quarter deck; it would be certain destruction if they remained in that
position till night should overtake them.
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