He had never been tried in this way before, and he found the sensation far from agreeable.
“If only the vessel would stop pitching,” he groaned. “Oh, how happy I should be if I were on dry land.”
But the vessel wouldn’t stop—even for a minute.
The motion, on the other hand, seemed to increase, as was natural, for they were getting farther and farther from land and were exposed to the more violent winds that swept the open ocean.
There is something about seasickness that swallows up and draws away all minor cares and anxieties, and Dodger was too much affected to consider how or why it was that he so unexpectedly found himself a passenger to California.
“Lie flat on your back,” said the steward. “You will feel better if you do.”
“How long is it going to last?” groaned Dodger, feeling quite miserable.
“Oh, you’ll feel better to-morrow. I’ll bring you some porridge presently. You can get that down, and it is better to have something on your stomach.”
He was right. The next day Dodger felt considerably better, and ventured to go upon deck. He looked about him in surprise.
There had been a storm, and the waves were white with foam.