Captain Frankland thought the same, and making sail we stood towards her.  By that time she was evidently settling down.  The ship was hove-to, the boats were lowered, and, in spite of a good deal of sea which then was on, we ran alongside.  A number of strange-looking figures in coloured silks and cottons, dressed more like women than men, crowded the side.  Some leaped into the water in their fright; others we received into the boats, and conveyed them to the ship.  Two trips had been made, when Mr Pincott, who was in the boat with me, said he did not think she would float till we came back.  At that moment a person appeared at the stern of the vessel handsomely dressed.  He was a fine-looking old gentleman.  He must have seen his danger, and he seemed to be bidding his countrymen farewell.  I could not bear the thought of leaving him; so I begged Mr Pincott to pull back, and signing him to descend by one of the rope-ladders hanging over the stern, we received him safely into the boat.  Scarcely had we done so, when the junk gave a heavy lurch.  "There she goes, poor thing!" exclaimed Pincott.  "Well, she didn't look as if she was made to swim.  But pull away, my lads-- pull away.  We may be back in time to pick up some of the poor fellows." It was heartrending to see the poor wretches struggling in the water, and holding out their hands imploringly to us, and yet not be able to help them.  Many very soon sunk; others got hold of gratings and bits of wreck, and endeavoured to keep themselves afloat, but some of those monsters of the deep--the sharks--got in among them, and very soon committed horrible havoc among the survivors.  The moment we were able to get the people we had in the boat up the ship's side we returned to the scene of the catastrophe.  We pulled about as rapidly as we could, hauling in all we could get hold of still swimming about, but some were drawn down even before our very eyes, and altogether a good many must have been lost.