Chapter 14

Good boatswain, have care.

TEMPEST.

At sunset, the speck presented by the reefed top-sail of the corvette had
sunk beneath the horizon, in the southern board, and that ship was seen no
longer. Several islands had been passed, looking tranquil and smiling amid
the fury of the tempest; but it was impossible to haul up for any one
among them. The most that could be done was to keep the ship dead before
it, to prevent her broaching-to, and to have a care that she kept clear of
those rocks and of that bottom, for which Nanny Sidley had so much pined.

Familiarity with the scene began to lessen the apprehensions of the
passengers, and as scudding is an easy process for those who are liable to
sea-sickness, ere another night shut in, the principal concern was
connected with the course the ship was compelled to steer. The wind had so
far hauled to the westward as to render it certain that the coast of
Africa would lie in their way, if obliged to scud many hours longer; for
Captain Truck's observations actually placed him to the southward and
eastward of the Canary Islands. This was a long distance out of his
course, but the rate of sailing rendered the fact sufficiently clear.

This, too was the precise time when the Montauk felt the weight of the
tempest, or rather, when she experienced the heaviest portion of that
which it was her fate to feel. Lucky was it for the good ship that she had
not been in this latitude a few hours earlier, when it had blown something
very like a hurricane. The responsibility and danger of his situation now
began seriously to disturb Captain Truck, although he kept his
apprehensions to himself, like a prudent officer. All his calculations
were gone over again with the utmost care, the rate of sailing was
cautiously estimated, and the result showed, that ten or fifteen hours
more would inevitably produce shipwreck of another sort, unless the wind
moderated.

Fortunately, the gale began to break about midnight. The wind still blew
tremendously, but it was less steadily, and there were intervals of
half-an-hour at a time when the ship might have carried much more canvas,
even on a bowline: of course her speed abated in proportion, and, after
the day had dawned, a long and anxious survey from aloft showed no land to
the eastward. When perfectly assured of this important fact, Captain Truck
rubbed his hands with delight, ordered a coal for his cigar, and began to
abuse Saunders about the quality of the coffee during the blow.

"Let there be something creditable, this morning, sir," added the captain,
after a sharp rebuke; "and remember we are down here in the neighbourhood
of the country of your forefathers, where a man ought, in reason, to be on
his