The ships were laboring heavily, tugging and straining on their cables.

From the funnels of the steamers volumes of black smoke were pouring, showing that they were getting up steam to keep the screws or paddles going, and relieve the strain upon their anchors.
"I wouldn't be aboard one of them craft," an old sailor said, "not for enough money to find me in grog and 'bacca for the rest of my life.

If the gale gets stronger, half them ships will be ashore afore morning, and if they do, God help those on board!" Happily the storm did not increase in violence, and when morning broke it was found that although many of the vessels had dragged their anchors, and some damage had been done by collisions, none had gone ashore.

The knowledge, however, of how heavy a sea got up in a gale of even moderate force, and how frightfully dangerous was the position of the vessels, would, it might be thought, have served as a lesson, but unhappily it did not do so.

The naval officer who was in charge of the harbor was obstinate, and again refused the request of the masters of many of the transports that the shipping might all be allowed to enter the harbor.