But
now all the old mariners said there would be storm, and we
were glad of the little bay between the protecting horns.
The Admiral named it Bay of Comfort. The _Consolacion_
_Margarita_, _Juana_, _San Sebastian_, lay under bare masts, deep
within the bight.
The next day, an hour before noon, arrived that king
hurricane.
They are known now, these storms of Europe's west and
Asia's east. Take all our Mediterranean storms and heap
them into one!
Through the day our anchors held in our Bay of Comfort,
and we blessed our Admiral. But at eve the _Margarita_,
the _Juana_ and the _San Sebastian_ lost bottom, feared breaking
against the rocky shore and stood out for sea room. The
_Consolacion_ stayed fast, and at dawn was woe to see nothing at all of the three. In the howling tempest
and the
quarter light we knew not if they were sunk or saved.
With the second evening the hurricane sank; at dawn
the seas, though running high, no longer pushed against us
like white-maned horses of Death. We waited till noon,
then the sea being less mountainous, quitted the Bay of
Comfort and went to look for the three ships.
The _Juana_ and the _San Sebastian_ we presently sighted
and rejoiced thereat. But the _Margarita_! We saw her
nowhere, and the Admiral's face grew gray. His son Fernando
pressed close to him.
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