The _Sirdar_ was just completing her turning movement, and she heeled over, yielding to the mighty power of the gale.

For an appreciable instant her engines stopped.

The mass of water that swayed the junk like a cork lifted the great ship high by the stern.

The propeller began to revolve in air--for the third officer had corrected his signal to "full speed ahead" again--and the cumbrous Chinese vessel struck the _Sirdar_ a terrible blow in the counter, smashing off the screw close to the thrust-block and wrenching the rudder from its bearings.
There was an awful race by the engines before the engineers could shut off steam.

The junk vanished into the wilderness of noise and tumbling seas beyond, and the fine steamer of a few seconds ago, replete with magnificent energy, struggled like a wounded leviathan in the grasp of a vengeful foe.
She swung round, as if in wrath, to pursue the puny assailant which had dealt her this mortal stroke.