too close to shore in his run along the eastward coast of the Cape, lest the storm put the Iroquois also on the shoals. Dead reckoning alone would tell him when to turn, and carefully the commander considered every feature that might indicate his position.
Darkness had long since shut in, and the Iroquois was wallowing through a night as black as pitch before the captain altered his course and headed south along the outer edge of the Cape. Gradually the course of the vessel was shifted. To Henry the change was terrifying. No longer was the Iroquois breasting the storm. The waves took her abeam. From side to side she rolled until Henry’s heart stood still with fear. Over and over and over she dipped until he was certain she would turn upside down. Then slowly she righted and swung in the opposite direction. And once, when she rolled at an angle of forty degrees, Henry almost gasped aloud. It seemed like eternity while the ship lay poised almost on her beam’s ends, apparently uncertain whether to roll on over or come back on her keel. Then she slowly righted.
Meantime the chief electrician had been in touch with the stranded ship. From her signals he knew that she was not far away. They came crackling out of the air sharp and clear. A distant glow showed that the guardsmen from