Chapter 26

THE PITCH OF THE CAPE.

Ere the calm had yet left us, a sail had been discerned from the
fore-top-mast-head, at a great distance, probably three leagues
or more. At first it was a mere speck, altogether out of sight
from the deck. By the force of attraction, or something else equally
inscrutable, two ships in a calm, and equally affected by the
currents, will always approximate, more or less. Though there was
not a breath of wind, it was not a great while before the strange
sail was descried from our bulwarks; gradually, it drew still nearer.

What was she, and whence? There is no object which so excites
interest and conjecture, and, at the same time, baffles both, as
a sail, seen as a mere speck on these remote seas off Cape Horn.
A breeze! a breeze! for lo! the stranger is now perceptibly
nearing the frigate; the officer's spy-glass pronounces her a
full-rigged ship, with all sail set, and coming right down to us,
though in our own vicinity the calm still reigns.

She is bringing the wind with her. Hurrah! Ay, there it is! Behold
how mincingly it creeps over the sea, just ruffling and crisping it.

Our top-men were at once sent aloft to loose the sails, and
presently they faintly began to distend. As yet we hardly had
steerage-way. Toward sunset the stranger bore down before the
wind, a complete pyramid of canvas. Never before, I venture to
say, was Cape Horn so audaciously insulted. Stun'-sails alow and
aloft; royals, moon-sails, and everything else. She glided under
our stern, within hailing distance, and the signal-quarter-master
ran up our ensign to the gaff.

"Ship ahoy!" cried the Lieutenant of the Watch, through his trumpet.

"Halloa!" bawled an old fellow in a green jacket, clap-ping one hand
to his mouth, while he held on with the other to the mizzen-shrouds.

"What ship's that?"

"The Sultan, Indiaman, from New York, and bound to Callao and Canton,
sixty days out, all well. What frigate's that?"

"The United States ship Neversink, homeward bound." "Hurrah!
hurrah! hurrah!" yelled our enthusiastic countryman, transported
with patriotism.

By this time the Sultan had swept past, but the Lieutenant of the
Watch could not withhold a parting admonition.

"D'ye hear? You'd better take in some of your flying-kites there.
Look out for Cape Horn!"

But the friendly advice was lost in the now increasing wind. With
a suddenness by no means unusual in these latitudes, the light
breeze soon became a succession of sharp squalls, and our sail-
proud braggadacio of an India-man was observed to let everything
go by the run, his t'-gallant stun'-sails and flying-jib taking