The powers of evil were piling Ossa on Pelion! The skipper, however, was not daunted yet.
All hands had rushed aft, without being specially called, roused by the crash of the falling spars, so he immediately set them to work with the hatchets fastened round the mainmast bitts, cutting away at the wreckage; and then, as the clouds cleared away and a bit of blue sky showed itself aloft, Captain Billings expressed himself hopeful of getting out of the meshes of that network of danger in every direction with which we seemed surrounded.
"Look alive, men, and don't despair," said he to the crew, encouraging them; for they were almost panic-stricken at first, and it was all that Jorrocks and I could do to get them to ply their tomahawks forwards and cut away the rigging, which still held the foremast with all its top- hamper attached to the ship, thumping at her sides as the lumber floated alongside, trying to crunch our timbers in.

"Look alive, men, and put your heart into it; all hope hasn't left us yet! The gale has nearly blown itself out, as you can see for yourselves by that little bit of blue sky there overhead, bigger than a Dutchman's pair of breeches; so, as soon as the sea goes down a little, we'll hoist out the boats, so as to have them handy in case we have to abandon the ship, should the fire in the hold get too strong for us, although I don't fear that yet, my hearties, for the water may drown it out soon, you know.

But work away cheerily, my lads, and clear away all that dunnage, so that we can set a little sail presently on the mainmast and mizzen, which we still have standing, when we can make a run for some islands lying close by under the lee of Cape Horn, where I'll heave her ashore if I can; but, if the vessel don't reach the land, you needn't be afraid of not being able to do so in the boats, which we can take to as a last resource, so there's no fear of your lives being lost, at any rate!" "Hurray!" shouted out Jorrocks, leading a cheer; and Pat Doolan seconding him heartily, the hands started at the rigging with greatly renewed vigour, slashing at the shrouds and stays until they parted, and the foremast was at last cut away clear, floating astern on the top of the rolling waves.
"There it goes!" cried the skipper, "and joy go with it for deserting us in that unhandsome way!" "Ah, sir," observed Haxell, the carpenter, who was standing close beside him now, quiet a bit after exerting himself like a navvy in helping to clear the wreck, "you forgets as how the poor dear thing never recovered that spring it had off Madeiry!" "No; for it has lasted well, nevertheless, and I oughtn't to complain of it now," said Captain Billings, with a responsive sigh to the carpenter's lament over the lost foremast.

Haxell looked upon all the ship's spars as if they were his own peculiar private property, and spoke of them always--that is, when he could be induced to abandon his chronic taciturnity--as if they had kindred feelings and sensibilities to his own! The dark threatening clouds which had enveloped the heavens for the past twenty-four hours now cleared away, although the wind still blew pretty fresh from the south-west, and the sun coming out, Captain Billings told me to go and fetch my sextant in order to take an observation so as to ascertain our true position; for, first with the north-easter, and then with the squall from the south, we had been so driven here, there, and everywhere, that it was difficult to form any reasonable surmise as to where we really were--especially as there was a strong current supposed to run round Cape Horn from the Pacific towards the Atlantic Ocean at certain tides.
I fetched my sextant and took the sun; and I may say confidently to all whom it may concern that this was the last observation ever made by any one on board the ill-fated _Esmeralda_! The skipper checked me in the time, from the chronometer in the cabin; and when I had worked out the reckoning, we compared notes on the poop.
"What do you make it ?" said he.
"56 degrees 20 minutes South," I said.
"And the ship's time makes us about 66 degrees West.

Ha! humph! we must be about forty miles to the south of Cape Horn; and, by Jove," he added, looking to the north-west, where the blue sky was without a fleck save a little white cloud, like the triangular sail of a boat, seen dimly low down on the horizon, "there's my gentleman over there, now!" The knowledge of the vessel's position appeared to give the skipper greater confidence; and, the waves ceasing to break over us, although the huge southern rollers swept by in heavy curves, he gave directions for getting some tackle rigged to launch the long-boat, which, although it was right in the way, had escaped injury when the foremast fell.