by Verne, Jules, 1828-1905
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The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, borne on by monstrous waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to theirs. Twenty times she seemed almost to be submerged by these mountains of water which rose behind her; but the adroit management of the pilot saved her. The passengers were often bathed in spray, but they submitted to it philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; but Aouda, with her eyes fastened upon her protector, whose coolness amazed her, showed herself worthy of him, and bravely weathered the storm. As for Phileas Fogg, it seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his programme.
Up to this time the " Tankadere" had always held her course to the north ; but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from the north-west. The boat,
now l)'ing in the troii-h of the waves, shook and rolled terribly ; the sea struck her with fearful violence. At night the tempest increased in violence. John Ikinsby saw the approach of darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. lie thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken speed. After a consultation he approached Mr. Fogg, and said, "I think, your honour, that we should do well to make for one of the ports on the coast."
" I think so too."
" Ah !" said the pilot. '* But which one V
" I know of but one," returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.
"And that is?"
"Shanghai."
The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend ; he could scarcely realize so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, '' Well?yes ! Your honour is right. To Shanghai !"
So the " Tankadere " kept steadily on her northward track.
The night was really terrible ; it would be a miracle if the craft did not founder. Twice it would have been all over with her, if the crew had not been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not utter a complaint. More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from the violence of the waves.
Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undi-
minlshed fury ; but the wind now returned to the southeast. It was a favourable change, and the " Tankadere " again bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks w^hich would have crushed a craft less solidly built. From time to time the coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in sight. The ^' Tankadere " was alone upon the sea.
There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these became more distinct as the sun descended toward the horizon. The tempest had been as brief as terrific. The passengers, thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a little, and take some repose.
The night was comparatively quiet. Some of the sails were again hoisted, and the speed of the boat was very good. The next morning at dawn they espied the coast, and John Bunsby w^as able to assert that they were not one hundred miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day to traverse them! That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at Shanghai, if he did not wish to miss the steamer to Yokohama. Had there been no storm, during which several hours were lost, they would be at this moment within thirty miles of their destination.
The wind grew decidedly calmer, and happily the sea fell with it. All sails were now hoisted, and at noon the " Tankadere" was within forty-five miles of Shanghai.
There remained yet six hours in which to accomplish that distance. All on board feared that it could not be done; and every one?Phileas Fogg, no doubt, excepted ?felt his heart beat with impatience. The boat must keep up an average of nine miles an hour, and the wind was becoming calmer every moment! It was a capricious breeze, coming from the coast, and after it passed the sea became smooth. Still, the " Tankadere " was so light, and her fine sails caught the fickle zephyrs so well, that, with the aid of the current, John Bunsby found himself at six o'clock not more than ten miles from the mouth of Shanghai River. Shanghai itself is situated at least twelve miles up the stream. At seven they were still three miles from Shanghai. The pilot swore an angry oath ; the reward of two hundred pounds was evidently on the point of escaping him. He looked at Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was at this moment at stake.
At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters. It was the American steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.
