"What ish dis?" he asked.
"Do as you're told," said the captain, and the man signed.
The captain then put a pair of handcuffs on the man's wrists, though he was as quiet as possible, and he was left to meditate on the privileges of sailing under that symbol of freedom and justice, the American flag.
CHAPTER IX.
THE "DUBLIN"—CONCLUDED.
When eight days out from Cronstadt the ship was in the North Sea about forty miles S. W. of the Naze of Norway. The weather was rainy and the sky dark and threatening. The wind gradually increased to a gale from the westward, and in a few hours the ship was hove to under the close-reefed main-topsail, laboring heavily in the ugly confused sea. Careful attention to the pumps showed that the ship was leaking more than usual, keeping the pumps constantly going. The sand washed to the well-room and choked the pumps, which had not force enough to throw it out. It was blowing a living gale, the ship was leaking badly and the pumps were useless, the alternative that was presented was to founder at sea, or run for some port. Accordingly, in the afternoon, the captain ordered the yards to be squared, and the ship scudded before wind and sea towards the Cattegat. Getting one pump clear, the crew, by constant work, kept the water from gaining rapidly; but a new danger was now before us. The captain had not seen the sun for twenty-four hours and was not very confident as to the ship's position; she was running towards the land, and an error of a few miles in the reckoning might result in the loss of all on board before the next day-break. The Coast of Denmark is very low and cannot be seen far at sea even in clear weather, and though Captain Streeter hoped to fetch to the northward of it, still he felt very much concerned, as the distance would probably be run before day-light. I shall never forget my feelings as I stood by the wheel that night, in the middle watch, while the ship scudded before the howling tempest in the pitchy darkness, perhaps towards sudden and certain destruction.
The negro steward had the best eyes of any man in the ship, and at the first dawn of day he went forward and looked anxiously and earnestly ahead. In a moment the cry, "Land, ho!" sounded, and he ran aft and reported to the captain that he could see the land not more than five miles off. Calling all hands the captain hauled the ship by the wind and crowded all the sail possible in order to keep the ship off the lee-shore and weather the northern point of Denmark, which, as the day broke, appeared on the lee bow. He found that he had missed his course by only eight or ten miles, but had it not been for the steward's eye-sight, or had day dawned fifteen minutes later, the error would have proved fatal. The ship struggled bravely against the gale under double-reefed topsails, a press of canvas that threatened "to take the sticks out of her," but she seemed inspirited by the nearness of the dangerous coast, and when she finally fetched by the Scaw and squared away across the Cattegat, all on board felt that the question of life and death was decided in their favor, and cheerfulness and thankfulness took possession of them. One hundred and fifty vessels and three hundred lives were reported lost in that gale. That afternoon the ship took a pilot off the Swedish coast, and proceeding seven miles up the River Gotha, anchored at Masthugget, a suburb of Gothenburg.
The next day a survey was held and it was decided that the ship must discharge and be hove down, though the leak was no more than good pumps could have kept under. Here was a dismal prospect. It was October and three months must pass before the "Dublin" could be ready for sea again, and then it would be January, and probably the river would be frozen over, so that she would be ice-bound till spring. The dreary looking country and the low unattractive town which was in sight presented little temptation to a long residence, and great discussions went on in the forecastle, whether the "old man" would discharge the crew or not.