The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 143: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SAILING .WITH MORGAN. bowed her way through the water, for she was built for stowage and not for speed. We carried a small crew for those days—master, first and second officers, carpenter, cook, and seven seamen. The carpenter stood watch like the ~ rest. I was the only landsman in the after-guard. When we had dropped the land fairly astern the anchors were stowed inboard, the cables unbent and sent be- low, the crew divided into watches, and, tired with my unwonted exertions of the night before, [ went below, and, crawling into the little standing berth that had been allotted to me, I fell sound asleep. When I awoke it was in pitchy dark- ness, so | judged that I must have slept at least ten hours. The bark was rolling heavily, and every mast and spar seemed to have a shrill note of its own. The timbers cracked like musket-fire, and the swirl and gurgle of the water past the run came to me in the silences between the gusts of rain that drove down upon the decks. I pulled on the clothes most easily reached and, clawing my way along the cuddy-table, crawled up the com- panionway. The hatch-cover was drawn, but it gave under my hand and I crawled out upon the wet decks. A gray dawn was breaking wetly in the east. The bark was making heavy weather of it and was shipping green seas over her knighthead. They piled aft to the foot of the. deck - house where they broke, throwing their spume aft in smoky masses, while lines of spindrift ran aft alongside. Aloft, a rag of a foretopsail was showing to the wind, and the spanker was low-reefed; forward, the sprit- sail had blown from the bolt - ropes, and the two men at the tiller strained and heaved at the long beam. ‘There was now no question of hold- ing her up to her course, so we ran straight before the wind. “Gulf Stream weather, Mr. Up- 845 holme,”’ said Mr. Oakes, the mate, as he clawed past me along the lee rail. Se Deb wet, enc: { nodded, attempting no more, for I was as sick as a' dog. Presently I felt better. “When did this storm begin?” I asked. “Lord love you, man! ‘This is no storm. Just a good sailing breeze. Forward, there! Bo’swain, get a rag more o’ that mainsail set to the wind. She’ll steer easier.”’ IT shall never forget that day, nor the next, nor the next, nor indeed any of those that followed. Wind, wind, wind, and rain, rain, rain, and alwavs f was sick, and always | gnawed away at the tough salt beef or swigged at a bottle of ale that the steward set be- fore me. . The weather grew worse and worse till the gale from the northwest was heavier than any I had ever seen be- fore, or had even dreamed as possible, and this was not my first voyage. It was on the fourth night that the acci- dent happened. When I turned in it was with an ill-defined feeling that all was not well. Captain Blew looked tired out when he came down for his cold supper, and for the first time since we sailed I saw him refuse the bottle of grog that Mr. Oakes pushed across the table to him. “Not now,” he said. “ We may ‘need all the wits we've got if this wind holds.”’ The gale did hold, and all night long it howled and snatched at us — and in the late hours of the night I heard or rather felt a crash that shook the little bark from stem to stern. It seemed an eternity before I could get out of that close little cabin, for the hatch was close-drawn, and all the time that I stood panic - blinded and sweating like a frightened horse I[ heard oaths and blows on the wet decks outside. Finally the hatch opened suddenly, and I pitched forward upon my hands EOPMICLOOOKS (C@)