But when, in the midst of what might almost be called a tempest, her captain had ordered that she be given as much canvas as could be carried, without literally burying her, then was the situation such as seemed to demand the attention of every one.
Had these mutinously inclined sailors cried out against Captain Ropes’s thus forcing the ship to her utmost point of endurance, then would there have been method in their madness.
Instead of this, however, they allowed their minds to dwell upon the past, shrinking before the imaginary evils, and apparently giving no heed to the imminent danger which threatened.
As these thoughts came into my mind, I stood clasping with both hands the stanchion, lest I be hurled like a shuttle-cock around the deck, lost in amazement because the men could be so keen in following their own superstitions, and so dull to present surroundings.
Simon, who had been following close at my heels, and was now swaying to and fro at my side as he clutched the same support, said, after we had surveyed the groups of mutinous sailormen:
“Let us try to go on deck. It may be that we shall succeed in having speech with my father, and it appears to me necessary he should know what we have learned.”
Anything was preferable to remaining there, so I said to myself, although doubting if it would be possible for us to gain the spar-deck.
Waiting until the ship was comparatively steady for an instant, we forsook the stanchion to make a rush for the next nearest stationary object to which we could cling, and thus, by short stages, after no little expenditure of time, succeeded in gaining the hatch, which had been left open only sufficiently wide to admit of the passage of a man’s body.
Here we stood on the ladder, with our heads just showing above the combing, witnessing such a terrifying spectacle as I had never before seen.