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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
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；
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