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shelter of the trunk he breathed once more。 He fastened the rope more
securely； and then was put under by another sea。 One of the women slid down
and joined him； the native remaining by the other woman； the two children； and
the cat。
The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the other
trees continually diminished。 Now he saw the process work out alongside him。
It required all his strength to hold on； and the woman who had joined him was
growing weaker。 Each time he emerged from a sea he was surprised to find
himself still there； and next； surprised to find the woman still there。 At
last he emerged to find himself alone。 He looked up。 The top of the tree had
gone as well。 At half its original height； a splintered end vibrated。 He was
safe。 The roots still held； while the tree had been shorn of its windage。 He
began to climb up。 He was so weak that he went slowly； and sea after sea
caught him before he was above them。 Then he tied himself to the trunk and
stiffened his soul to face the night and he knew not what。
He felt very lonely in the darkness。 At times it seemed to him that it was the
end of the world and that he was the last one left alive。 Still the wind
increased。 Hour after hour it increased。 By what he calculated was eleven
o'clock； the wind had become unbelievable。 It was a horrible； monstrous thing；
a screaming fury； a wall that smote and passed on but that continued to smite
and pass ona wall without end。 It seemed to him that he had become light and
ethereal； that it was he that was in motion； that he was being driven with
inconceivable velocity through unending solidness。 The wind was no longer air
in motion。 It had become substantial as water or quicksilver。 He had a
feeling that he could reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do
with the meat in the carcass of a steer； that he could seize hold of the wind
and hang on to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff。
The wind strangled him。 He could not face it and breathe； for it rushed in
through his mouth and nostrils； distending his lungs like bladders。 At such
moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and swollen with solid
earth。 Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the tree could he breathe。
Also； the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him。 Body and brain became
wearied。 He no longer observed； no longer thought； and was but semiconscious。
One idea constituted his consciousness： SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE。 That one idea
persisted irregularly。 It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally。
From a state of stupor he would return to itSO THIS WAS A HURRICANE。 Then
he would go off into another stupor。
The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in the
morning； and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi and his
women snapped off。 Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon； still clutching
his daughter Ngakura。 Only a South Sea islander could have lived in such a
driving smother。 The pandanus tree； to which he attached himself； turned over
and over in the froth and churn； and it was only by holding on at times and
waiting； and at other times shifting his grips rapidly； that he was able to
get his head and Ngakura's to the surface at intervals sufficiently near
together to keep the breath in them。 But the air was mostly water； what with
flying spray and sheeted rain that poured along at right angles to the
perpendicular。
It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand。 Here； tossing
tree trunks； timbers； wrecks of cutters； and wreckage of houses； killed nine
out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage of the lagoon。
Half…drowned； exhausted； they were hurled into this mad mortar of the elements
and battered into formless flesh。 But Mapuhi was fortunate。 His chance was the
one in ten； it fell to him by the freakage of fate。 He emerged upon the sand；
bleeding from a score of wounds。
Ngakura's left arm was broken； the fingers of her right hand were crushed； and
cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone。 He clutched a tree that yet
stood； and clung on； holding the girl and sobbing for air； while the waters of
the lagoon washed by knee…high and at times waist…high。
At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke。 By five no more
than a stiff breeze was blowing。 And by six it was dead calm and the sun was
shining。 The sea had gone down。 On the yet restless edge of the lagoon； Mapuhi
saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the landing。 Undoubtedly
Tefara and Nauri were among them。 He went along the beach examining them； and
came upon his wife； lying half in and half out of the water。 He sat down and
wept； making harsh animal noises after the manner of primitive grief。 Then she
stirred uneasily； and groaned。 He looked more closely。 Not only was she alive；
but she was uninjured。 She was merely sleeping。 Hers also had been the one
chance in ten。
Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained。 The
mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census。 The lagoon was cluttered
with corpses。 Not a house nor a hut was standing。 In the whole atoll not two
stones remained one upon another。 One in fifty of the cocoanut palms still
stood； and they were wrecks； while on not one of them remained a single nut。
There was no fresh water。 The shallow wells that caught the surface seepage of
the rain were filled with salt。 Out of the lagoon a few soaked bags of flour
were recovered。 The survivors cut the hearts out of the fallen cocoanut trees
and ate them。 Here and there they crawled into tiny hutches； made by
hollowing out the sand and covering over with fragments of metal roofing。 The
missionary made a crude still； but he could not distill water for three
hundred persons。 By the end of the second day； Raoul； taking a bath in the
lagoon； discovered that his thirst was somewhat relieved。 He cried out the
news； and thereupon three hundred men； women； and children could have been
seen； standing up to their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in
through their skins。 Their dead floated about them； or were stepped upon where
they still lay upon the bottom。 On the third day the people buried their dead
and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers。
In the meantime； Nauri； torn from her family by the hurricane； had been swept
away on an adventure of her own。 Clinging to a rough plank that wounded and
bruised her and that filled her body with splinters； she was thrown clear over
the atoll and carried away to sea。 Here； under the amazing buffets of
mountains of water； she lost her plank。 She was an old woman nearly sixty； but
she was Paumotan…born； and she had never been out of sight of the sea in her
life。 Swimming in the darkness； strangling； suffocating； fighting for air； she
was struck a heavy blow on the shoulder by a cocoanut。 On the instant her plan
was formed； and she seiz