"I'd like to know how," said Joseph.
"Well, if you two young gentlemen won't be bored by hearing a sea yarn, I'll just spin it for you."
The two young men looked at one another. Bored? Well, that was good, after all their clever hints.
"It was a matter of thirty years ago," began the Captain, "when I was only a boy, and was making a voyage much as you gentlemen are, for the pleasure of it. My father, who was a sea captain, was part owner in the Ellen Burgee, and he thought it would be a good thing for me to go out and sniff salt air and see blue water. The Ellen Burgee was an old-fashioned ship, with long single topsails, a mackerel-head bow, and tumble-home sides. Her stem was rounded out in a big arch, and she had quarter galleries like a line-of-battle ship. She was a roaring good sailer, though, and her skipper was likely to use bad language if he caught her doing anything under eight knots in a breath of air. She had a handsome cabin, too, had the Ellen Burgee, and when the swinging lamp was shedding its soft yellow light over the polished mahogany table, the cushioned lockers, the rugs, and the white and gold paint, it looked like the owner's saloon in a modern schooner yacht. I suppose I didn't know at that time how comfortable I was, but, looking back now, I can't say that I was ever any better off on shipboard."
THE CREW GAVE THREE HEARTY CHEERS AS THE BALLOON AROSE.
"The Ellen Burgee was bound from New York for Table Bay. It's not necessary to go into any account of her cargo, seeing that it has not anything to do with this story, and that it never arrived at its port of destination, anyhow, but went to feed fishes. However, that's running ahead of my reckoning, so I'll just heave to and drift back. We passed Sandy Hook with a fair wind and all kites flying. We didn't take a tug every time we went to sea in those days, but used to lie in the Horseshoe for a favoring breeze. I don't know that there's anything serious to tell you about, except that we stopped at Bermuda for three days, and I had my first look at those happy islands. What's more to the point is that a week later, in latitude 18° 15' N., longitude 56° 30' W., we sighted a derelict brig. She was water-logged and abandoned; but our old man thought there might be something aboard her worth saving, and so, as the wind was very light, and we couldn't lose much by backing our fore-topsail yard for a time, he sent a boat to her. The second mate went in it, and came back with a cargo of tissue-paper, ink, pens, and a few other loose things he'd picked up in her cabin. The tissue-paper, he said, would do for the boy—me—to play with. I laughed at him at the time, for I didn't see what use the tissue-paper would be to me. But I made a fire-balloon out of it afterwards, and we were all pretty glad that we had it aboard.
"We were getting down toward the equator when it fell a dead flat calm. I never saw such a calm before or since, except once. The sea looked like gray oil, its surface was so smooth and glassy. But out of the southwest there came a swell that kept growing bigger and bigger and bigger. There was not a breath of wind stirring, and the whoo, whoo, whoo of the rush of air in the rigging as the ship rolled sounded like the whistling of some ghostly fog siren. And how she did roll! Every spar and timber in her groaned and squeaked as if in mortal pain. Pots and dishes rattled and banged in the galley, and the whole interior of the ship was filled with strange unaccountable noises. Up above the sky was a sort of dull yellow, and the sun looked as if it were behind smoked glass. The old man looked at the barometer, and decided that we were in for a gale of wind. So he had the ship made snug under close-reefed main-topsail, a storm jib, and a rag of spanker. In those clothes she was ready for anything that might come along. We lay there rolling in that mad fashion until nearly midnight, and, boy as I was, I thought I should go insane with the deadly, inexorable, heartless swaying of the helpless fabric. I don't believe any man except a hardened old sailor—and not many of them—could keep this side of lunacy if he were becalmed under an equatorial sun in a swell like that for twenty-six hours.
"However, it ended all of a sudden about midnight. I was in my bunk, but I couldn't sleep because of the thumping of the cabin-doors on their hinges. I heard a man come lumbering down to call the Captain, and I slipped out of bed and into my clothes. I reached the deck in time to see a sudden glitter of stars in the northwestern horizon, and to feel a splash of cold wind on my cheek. The next instant the whole air above me was filled with a series of wild yells, as if a million souls were in agony. The gale had struck us, and for an instant I felt as if my breath were driven back into my lungs, so great was the pressure of the wind in my face. The ship heeled over till her lee scuppers ran two feet deep in bubbling water.
"'Down with your helm! Hard down!' shouted the Captain.