Bravely the Eugenie met it, for her captain and men handled her nobly.
She had her topgallant sails furled, her courses up, the topsails lowered upon the cap, and the reef-tackles close out; but she swayed fearfully when careening beneath the hot breath of the mighty blast, and riding over those black mountains of water, which in fierce succession it impelled toward her. High she went over a sloping sheet of foam one moment, and the next saw her plunging into a deep, black valley of that midnight sea; so deep, that the wind seemed to pass over us, the canvas flapped to the mast, and we only caught its weight and power when rising quickly on the crest of the next mighty roller.
Meanwhile the green-forked lightning flashed so brightly that at times we could see every rope in the vessel, our own blanched and pale faces, as we held on by ringbolts and belaying-pins to save ourselves from being washed overboard by the blinding sheets of mingled foam and rain that deluged the deck, over which the sea was also breaking heavily every instant.
Each time the Eugenie rose in her buoyancy, her decks were half full of water, and the longboat amidships filled so fast that a man with a bucket could scarcely keep it baled.
Following the whirlwind, we went round five times in thirty-five minutes, with the after-yards squared and the head-yards braced sharp up.
Then the black mass of sulphureous cloud in which we were enveloped seemed to ascend, and with the same rapidity with which it approached, passed away into the sky; "the chamber of the thunder," as the Bard of Cona names it, became again clear, blue, and starry, though marked by occasional masses of flying vapor. The rain ceased, and the Eugenie heaved upon a foam-covered sea, over which there passed, from time to time, short squalls, compelling us to lower the double-reefed topsails and run before the wind.
Now a stiff glass of grog was served round to all, and by turns we contrived to get some dry clothing.
In the end of the middle watch—about four o'clock, A.M.—there was suddenly visible, upon our larboard bow, a faint and vapory light that shot upward in the sky, from time to time, like jets of steam.
This singular appearance was high above the horizon, and first caught the anxious eye of Captain Weston.
"Hah! do you see that?" said he to me.