Well, ’tis no wonder they go; anything would go from such a noise, and never return. An army of Kansas grasshoppers would go into the regions above and never again return to earth. The terrible screeching was heard also on board of the ship, and it even suggested to our Captain that we ought to go too, and that ten days was long enough to remain in any country where they didn’t grease their cart wheels, and we went. After taking on board a good supply of tropical fruits of various kinds, with bananas in greatest abundance, which were suspended to the ship’s rigging in all convenient places until she had the appearance of a banana plantation going on an excursion, we sailed again out upon the broad ocean and laid our course for Cape Horn, where we expected to arrive by the middle of June.
CHAPTER III.
A Gale—The Ocean Swell—Cape Horn—The Magellan Cloud—The Native Tradition.
AS is very often the case in relation to human affairs, fate decreed otherwise, and in plain, unmistakable language we heard whispered by the gale which we encountered as it roared through the ship’s rigging, “Go slow! go slow!” And we did. About three hundred miles from the land off the mouth of the La Platte we encountered what all of the old salts, as well as the young, fresh ones, declared to be the heaviest gale that it was ever our misfortune to encounter. It came from off the coast, and of course was favorable for us; but there was a little too much of it. The sea was smooth, for such was the velocity and force of the gale that when a billow attempted to assert its rights and raised its head above the general sea level, it was instantly blown off, leaving in its place but a mass of white and seething foam. In this manner, with our noble ship lying to with the lee rail under water, we remained for thirteen days. To cook was impossible, for the reason that, at the angle at which our galley stove cut the horizon, nothing would stay in the dinner pot, and we were obliged therefore to eat off-hand and at random whatever we could get. It was now getting monotonous, and to add to our troubles the Captain would not grant us permission to go on shore, and it even seemed to hurt his feelings when we asked him.
On the evening of the thirteenth, the Captain, deprived of his accustomed rations of plum duff and soft tack, determined upon the tactics which he should adopt the following day if the gale did not abate and that was to run before the gale. This course was strongly objected to by the veteran skippers on board, who claimed that it would be a most dangerous proceeding and would never be adopted by anyone but a young and inexperienced commander. They had, as they explained, roamed the seas over from infancy and were well aware of the danger of running before a gale of such huge dimensions as we were then experiencing. They therefore strongly protested against it and assured the Captain that in case he did adopt that plan he must be responsible for all damages if the ship should run under and sink away down to the bottom in the cold sea, which they were most positive would be the case.
The Captain, however, after lying all night on the edge of his bunk determined, notwithstanding their protestations, early the next morning to make a break for liberty. With a firm step and with salt water in his larboard eye, he ascended to the deck and soon the command was heard above the roar of the tempest: “All hands on deck!”
In a few minutes every man of us was at his post as soon as we could find it, and when the order was given to the sailors who were holding fast to the wheel to let her go, they did, and it flew around in a most spiteful manner, as if conscious of its freedom. The bows of the ship swung around with the gale and we went flying amidst the foam upon the rough surface of the sea at a rate of speed nearly equal to a railroad train, and in a few hours were again upon our way with a fair wind and under full sail in the direction of Cape Horn.
“Well, well!” exclaimed one of the veteran skippers, who had predicted all kinds of disasters to the inexperienced Captain, as a consequence of his rash proceeding, and who was now standing near the gangway holding in his hand a well-filled carpet-bag, and with a look of disgust and disappointment in his expectations stamped upon his weather-beaten countenance: “Yer come outer that gale in good seaman style; but if yer had only took my advice yer’d done it more ’n a week ago.”
We arrived at Cape Horn on the 4th of July, and with a fair wind sailed around the dangerous point and entered the waters of the Pacific Ocean. This being our national holiday, we dressed up our vessel in appropriate attire, and with various instruments of music, the firing of guns and pistols, celebrated the day in true Yankee style, to the great astonishment of the seagulls, as well as the immense flock of birds of various kinds that arose into the air from the clefts and caverns of the massive rocks of the coast.
Just previous to our arrival at Cape Horn, much surprise had been expressed by many of us at the unusual heavy swell of the sea or of the huge billows we encountered, but had been invariably reminded by the aged veteran seaman on board: