“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Thus, and no nearer, my man. Ease her with a spoke or two when she sends; but be careful, or she’ll take the wheel out of your hands.”
It really was a very awful sight. When the ship was in the trough of the sea, you could distinguish nothing but a waste of tumultuous water; but when she was borne up on the summit of the enormous waves, you then looked down, as it were, upon a low, sandy coast, close to you, and covered with foam and breakers. “She behaves nobly,” observed the captain, stepping aft to the binnacle, and looking at the compass; “if the wind does not baffle us, we shall weather.” The captain had scarcely time to make the observation, when the sails shivered and flapped like thunder. “Up with the helm; what are you about, quarter-master?”
“The wind has headed us, sir,” replied the quarter-master, coolly.
The captain and master remained at the binnacle watching the compass; and when the sails were again full, she had broken off two points and the point of land was only a little on the lee bow.
“We must wear her round, Mr Falcon. Hands, wear ship—ready, oh, ready.”
“She has come up again,” cried the master, who was at the binnacle.
“Hold fast there a minute. How’s her head now?”
“N.N.E., as she was before she broke off, sir?”
“Pipe belay,” said the captain. “Falcon,” continued he, “if she breaks off again we may have no room to wear; indeed there is so little room now, that I must run the risk. Which cable was ranged last night—the best bower?”