- A cloud
rises to windward, looking a little black; the sky-sails are brailed
down; the captain puts his head out of the companion-way, looks at the
cloud, comes up, and begins to walk the deck.- The cloud spreads and
comes on;- the tub of yarns, the sail, and other matters, are thrown
below, and the sky-light and booby-hatch put on, and the slide drawn
over the forecastle.- "Stand by the royal halyards;"- the man at the
wheel keeps a good weather helm, so as not to be taken aback. The
squall strikes her. If it is light, the royal yards are clewed down,
and the ship keeps on her way; but if the squall takes strong hold,
the royals are clewed up, fore and aft; light hands lay aloft and furl
them; top-gallant yards clewed down, flying-jib hauled down, and the
ship kept off before it,- the man at the helm laying out his strength
to heave the wheel up to windward. At the same time a drenching
rain, which soaks one through in an instant. Yet no one puts on a
jacket or cap; for if it is only warm, a sailor does not mind a
ducking; and the sun will soon be out again. As soon as the force of
the squall has passed, though to a common eye the ship would seem to
be in the midst of its- "Keep her up to her course, again!"- "Keep her
up, sir," (answer);- "Hoist away the top-gallant yards!"- "Run up the
flying jib!"- "Lay aloft, you boys, and loose the royals!"- and all
sail is on her again before she is fairly out of the squall; and she
is going on in her course.
Pages:
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610