"I do, indeed; and if we do get a gale, it is likely to be a serious one. The Cape, you know, was much feared for its terrible storms by the Portuguese, and it has kept up its reputation ever since. I think it is going to give us a taste of its quality."
[Chapter 8]: A Gale.
"Wilson tells me he thinks we are going to have a gale, Bill."
"Ay, ay, Reuben; anyone with half an eye could see that."
"Which way is it likely to come?"
"Most likely from the north or northwest. At least that's the quarter it's likely to settle into; but there ain't no saying which way it may take us. I thought things had been going on too smooth to last. Now you are going to see what a storm is, my lad. You thought it was blowing when we went down the Channel."
"Is it likely to be much heavier than that, Bill?"
"Heavier!" the sailor repeated scornfully. "Why, there's as much difference between a capful of wind in the Channel, and a gale off the Cape, as there is between a newborn baby and me."
"Do they last long, generally?"
"Last! Why they goes on for weeks. There ain't no end to them. I've wondered sometimes to myself where all the wind comes from, and where it goes to, onlass it works round and round."