"Always," answered the first mate, in a matter of fact tone. "If this keeps on you won't see me at mess to-day noon. You'll have to eat your dinner standing up, but not for me."
The weather grew more tempestuous as the forenoon wore on. The scuppers were running rivers of green lake water and there was not a dry spot on the decks; even the upper works standing high in the air, were dripping with the spray that had been showered over them.
"Let her off three points," commanded the captain.
Almost instant relief from the incessant pounding was noticeable. The waves came aboard only occasionally, though the sea was running the same as before and the ship was rolling almost down to her rails.
"That is better," nodded Steve, his voice echoing in the silence of the pilot-house.
"Did it make you dizzy?" smiled the skipper.
"No, sir. I got all over that after I fell in the hold that time. It isn't a comfortable feeling to have the floor rolling around beneath one's feet, but I am getting so that I do not mind it much. Is that a boat ahead of us there?"
"Yes," replied the captain, placing the glasses to his eyes. "It's a pig, and she's having a pretty hard time of it. All you can see of her is a smother of foam in the place where the ship is. The smoke from her funnel seems to come right out of the lake."
"Are those whalebacks safe, Captain?" asked the pilot.