rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking them and
making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering the latch. The
white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. The room’s walls bulged
like a gas balloon in the process of sudden inflation. Then came a new sound
like the rattle of musketry, as the spray from a sea struck the wall of the
house. Captain Lyncyh looked at his watch. It was four o’clock. He put on a
coat of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious
pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light
building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its
floor at an angle of ten degrees.
Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted that
it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw himself on the
sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven like a wisp of
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straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai’S sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree
to which they had been clinging, came to their aid, leaning against the wind
at impossible angles and fighting and clawing every inch of the way.
The old man’s joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, by
means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, a few
feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the tree, fifty
feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around the base of an
adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was frightful. He had never
dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached across the atoll, wetting him to
the knees ere it subsided into the lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a
lead-colored twilight settled down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally,
struck him. The impact was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray
struck his face. It was like the slap of a man’s hand. His cheeks stung, and
involuntary tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives
had taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human
fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body
at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles
of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the
tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a man. One little girl
clasped a housecat in her arms.
From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty patriarch
waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached much nearer–in
fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned from lead to black. Many
people were still on the ground grouped about the bases of the trees and
holding on. Several such clusters were praying, and in one the Mormon
missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, rhythmical, faint as the faintest
chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a moment, but in the moment
suggesting to him vaguely the thought of heaven and celestial music, came to
his ear. He glanced about him and saw, at the base of another tree, a large
cluster of people holding on by ropes and by one another. He could see their
faces working and their lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he
knew that they were singing hymns.
Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could he
measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of wind;
but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not far away a
tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to the ground. A sea
washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. Things were happening
quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head silhouetted against the
churning white of the lagoon. The next instant that, too, had vanished. Other
trees were going, falling and criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at
the power of the wind. His own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was
wailing and clutching the little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat.
The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul’s arm and pointed. He looked
and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet away. It had been
torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were heaving and shoving it toward
the lagoon. A frightful wall of water caught it, tilted it, and flung it
against half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe
cocoanuts. The subsiding wave showed them on the ground, some lying
motionless, others squirming and writhing. They reminded him strangely of
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ants. He was not shocked. He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of
course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human
wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the
church into the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward,
half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah’s ark.
He looked for Captain Lynch’s house, and was surprised to find it gone. Things
certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the people in the
trees that still held had descended to the ground. The wind had yet again
increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer swayed or bent over and
back. Instead, it remained practically stationary, curved in a rigid angle
from the wind and merely vibrating. But the vibration was sickening. It was
like that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a jew’s-harp. It was the rapidity
of the vibration that made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not
stand the strain for long. Something would have to break.
Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it stood,
the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know what happened
unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails of human despair
occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He chanced to be looking in
Captain Lynch’s direction when it happened. He saw the trunk of the tree,
half-way up, splinter and part without noise. The head of the tree, with three
sailors of the Aorai and the old captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did
not fall to the ground, but drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a
hundred yards he followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained
his eyes, and was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell.
Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made signs to
descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were paralayzed from
terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed his rope around the
tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over his head. He held his
breath and clung desperately to the rope. The water subsided, and in the
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,