another explosion is certain. All
I advise is that you should be ready for whatever is coming, and ready
to take your only chance."

"Right you are, sir. Send men to be ready to cut the cable, Mr. Moor.
And stand by the topsail halyards."

"Ay, ay, sir."

During the anxious minutes that followed, the hermit rejoined Winnie and
Nigel on the quarter-deck, and conversed with the latter in a low voice,
while he drew the former to his side with his strong arm. Captain Roy
himself grasped the wheel and the men stood at their various stations
ready for action.

"Let no man act without orders, whatever happens," said the captain in a
deep powerful voice which was heard over the whole ship, for the lull
that we have mentioned extended in some degree to the gale as well as to
the volcano. Every one felt that some catastrophe was pending.

"Winnie, darling," said the hermit tenderly, as he bent down to see the
sweet face that had been restored to him. "I greatly fear that there is
sure to be another explosion, and it may be His will that we shall
perish, but comfort yourself with the certainty that no hair of your
dear head can fall without His permission--and in any event He will not
fail us."

"I know it, father. I have no fear--at least, only a little!"

"Nigel," said the hermit, "stick close to us if you can. It may be
that, if anything should befall me, your strong arm may succour Winnie;
mine has lost somewhat of its vigour," he whispered.

"Trust me--nothing but death shall sunder us," said the anxious youth in
a burst of enthusiasm.

It seemed as if death were indeed to be the immediate portion of all on
board the _Sunshine_, for a few minutes later there came a crash,
followed by a spout of smoke, fire, steam, and molten lava, compared to
which all that had gone before seemed insignificant!

The crash was indescribable! As we have said elsewhere, the sound of it
was heard many hundreds of miles from the seat of the volcano, and its
effects were seen and felt right round the world.

The numerous vents which had previously been noticed on Krakatoa must at
that moment have been blown into one, and the original crater of the old
volcano--said to have been about six miles in diameter--must have
resumed its destructive work. All the eye-witnesses who were near the
spot at the time, and sufficiently calm to take note of the terrific
events of that morning, are agreed as to the splendour of the electrical
phenomena displayed during this paroxysmal outburst. One who, at the
time, was forty miles distant speaks of the great vapour-cloud looking
"like an immense wall or blood-red curtain with edges of all shades of
yellow, and bursts of forked lightning at times rushing like large
serpents through the air." Another says that "Krakatoa appeared to be
alight with flickering flames rising behind a dense black cloud." A
third recorded that "the lightning struck the mainmast conductor five or
six times," and that "the mud-rain which covered the decks was
phosphorescent, while the rigging presented the appearance of St. Elmo's
fire."

It may be remarked here, in passing, that giant steam-jets rushing
through the orifices of the earth's crust constitute an enormous
hydro-electric engine; and the friction of ejected materials striking
against each other in ascending and descending also generates
electricity, which accounts to some extent for the electrical condition
of the atmosphere.

In these final and stupendous outbursts the volcano was expending its
remaining force in breaking up and ejecting the solid lava which
constituted its framework, and not in merely vomiting forth the
lava-froth, or pumice, which had characterised the earlier stages of the
eruption. In point of fact--as was afterwards clearly ascertained by
careful soundings and estimates, taking the average height of the
missing portion at 700 feet above water, and the depth at 300 feet below
it--two-thirds of the island were blown entirely off the face of the
earth. The mass had covered an area of nearly six miles, and is
estimated as being equal to 1-1/8 cubic miles of solid matter which, as
Moses expressed it, was blown to bits!

If this had been all, it would have been enough to claim the attention
and excite the wonder of the intelligent world--but this was not nearly
all, as we shall see, for saddest of all the incidents connected with
the eruption is the fact that upwards of thirty-six thousand human
beings lost their lives. The manner in which that terrible loss occurred
shall be shown by the future adventures of the _Sunshine_.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE FATE OF THE "SUNSHINE."


Stunned at first, for a few minutes, by the extreme violence of the
explosion, no one on board the _Sunshine_ spoke, though each man stood
at his post ready to act.

"Strange," said the captain at last. "There seems to be no big wave this
time."

"That only shows that we are not as near the island as we thought. But
it won't be long of----See! There it comes," said the hermit. "Now,
Winnie, cling to my arm and put your trust in God."

Nigel, who had secured a life-buoy, moved close to the girl's side, and
looking anxiously out ahead saw a faint line of foam in the thick
darkness which had succeeded the explosion. Already the distant roar of
the billow was heard, proving that it had begun to break.

"The wind comes with it," said Van der Kemp.

"Stand by!" cried the captain, gazing intently over the side. Next
moment came the sharp order to hoist the foretopsail and jib, soon
followed by "Cut the cable!"

There was breeze enough to swing the vessel quickly round. In a few
seconds her stern was presented to the coming wave, and her bow cleft
the water as she rushed upon what every one now knew was her doom.

To escape the great wave was no part of the captain's plan. To have
reached the shore before the wave would have been fatal to all. Their
only hope lay in the possibility of riding in on the top of it, and the
great danger was that they should be unable to rise to it stern first
when it came up, or that they should turn broadside on and be rolled
over.

They had not long to wait. The size of the wave, before it came near
enough to be seen, was indicated by its solemn, deep-toned,
ever-increasing roar. The captain stood at the wheel himself, guiding
the brig and glancing back from time to time uneasily.

Suddenly the volcano gave vent to its fourth and final explosion. It was
not so violent as its predecessors had been, though more so than any
that had occurred on the day before, and the light of it showed them the
full terrors of their situation, for it revealed the mountains of
Java--apparently quite close in front, though in reality at a
considerable distance--with a line of breakers beating white on the
shore. But astern of them was the most appalling sight, for there,
rushing on with awful speed and a sort of hissing roar, came the
monstrous wave, emerging, as it were, out of thick darkness, like a
mighty wall of water with a foaming white crest, not much
less--according to an average of the most reliable estimates--than 100
feet high.

Well might the seamen blanch, for never before in all their varied
experience had they seen the like of that.

On it came with the unwavering force of Fate. To the eye of Captain Roy
it appeared that up its huge towering side no vessel made by mortal man
could climb. But the captain had too often stared death in the face to
be unmanned by the prospect now. Steadily he steered the vessel straight
on, and in a quiet voice said--

"Lay hold of something firm--every man!"

The warning was well timed. In the amazement, if not fear, caused by the
unwonted sight, some had neglected the needful precaution.

As the billow came on, the bubbling, leaping, and seething of its crest
was apparent both to eye and ear. Then the roar became tremendous.

"Darling Winnie," said Nigel at that moment. "I will die for you or with
you!"

The poor girl heard, but no sign of appreciation moved her pale face as
she gazed up at the approaching chaos of waters.

Next moment the brig seemed to stand on its bows. Van der Kemp had
placed his daughter against the mast, and, throwing his long arms round
both, held on. Nigel, close to them, had grasped a handful of ropes, and
every one else was holding on for life. Another moment and the brig rose
as if it were being tossed up to the heavens. Immediately thereafter it
resumed its natural position in a perfect wilderness of foam. They were
on the summit of the great wave, which was so large that its crest
seemed like a broad, rounded mass of tumbling snow with blackness before
and behind, while the roar of the tumult was deafening. The brig rushed
onward at a speed which she had never before equalled even in the
fiercest gale--tossed hither and thither by the leaping foam, yet always
kept going straight onward by the expert steering of her captain.

"Come aft--all of you!" he shouted, when it was evident that the vessel
was being borne surely forward on the wave's crest. "The masts will go
for certain when we strike."

The danger of being entangled in the falling spars and cordage was so
obvious that every one except the hermit and Nigel obeyed.

"Here, Nigel," gasped the former. "I--I've--lost blood--faint!----"

Our hero at once saw that Van der Kemp, fainting from previous loss of
blood, coupled with exertion, was unable to do anything but hold on.
Indeed, he failed even in that, and would have fallen to the deck had
Nigel not caught him by the arm.

"Can you run aft, Winnie?" said Nigel anxiously.

"Yes!" said the girl, at once understanding the situation and darting to
the wheel, of which and of Captain Roy she laid firm hold, while Nigel
lifted the hermit in his arms and staggered to the same spot. Winnie
knelt beside him immediately, and, forgetting for the moment all the
horrors around her, busied herself in replacing the bandage which had
been loosened from his head.

"Oh! Mr. Roy, save him!--save him!" cried the poor child, appealing in
an agony to Nigel, for she felt instinctively that when the crash came
her father would be utterly helpless even to save himself.

Nigel had barely time to answer when a wild shout from the crew caused
him to start up and look round. A flare from the volcano had cast a red
light over the bewildering scene, and revealed the fact that the brig
was no longer above the ocean's bed, but was passing in its wild career
right through, or rather _over_, the demolished town of Anjer. A few of
the houses that had been left standing by the previous waves were being
swept--hurled--away by this one, but the mass of rolling, rushing,
spouting water was so deep, that the vessel had as yet struck nothing
save the tops of some palm-trees which bent their heads like straws
before the flood.

Even in the midst of the amazement, alarm, and anxiety caused by the
situation, Nigel could not help wondering that in this final and
complete destruction of the town no sign of struggling human beings
should be visible. He forgot at the moment, what was terribly proved
afterwards, that the first waves had swallowed up men, women, and
children by hundreds, and that the few who survived had fled to the
hills, leaving nothing for the larger wave to do but complete the work
of devastation on inanimate objects. Ere the situation had been well
realised the volcanic fires went down again, and left the world, for
over a hundred surrounding miles, in opaque darkness. Only the humble
flicker of the binnacle light, like a trusty sentinel on duty, continued
to shed its feeble rays on a few feet of the deck, and showed that the
compass at least was still faithful to the pole!

Then another volcanic outburst revealed the fact that the wave which
carried them was thundering on in the direction of a considerable cliff
or precipice--not indeed quite straight towards it, but sufficiently so
to render escape doubtful.

At the same time a swarm of terror-stricken people were seen flying
towards this cliff and clambering up its steep sides. They were probably
some of the more courageous of the inhabitants who had summoned courage
to return to their homes after the passage of the second wave. Their
shrieks and cries could be heard above even the roaring of the water and
the detonations of the volcano.

"God spare us!" exclaimed poor Winnie, whose trembling form was now
partially supported by Nigel.

As she spoke darkness again obscured everything, and they could do
naught but listen to the terrible sounds--and pray.

On--on went the _Sunshine_, in the midst of wreck and ruin, on this
strange voyage over land and water, until a check was felt. It was not a
crash as had been anticipated, and as might have naturally been
expected, neither