I could see the bark from bow to stern, for she lay broadside to me. When the draught from the south first struck her she went over slowly almost upon her beam-ends; but righted majestically and her helm being put over she slewed around so as to take the gale bow-on.
She mounted the first wave splendidly and I saw her crew gathered forward in her bows. They seemed to be at work on something and there was a vast amount of running back and forth upon her deck. Meanwhile the waterspout, whirling like a dervish, bore down upon the bark.
The great column of water passed between me and the bark, then swung around and rushed down upon the craft in a way to threaten its complete extinction. I expected nothing more than to see the bark borne down and sunk under the weight of the bursting waterspout.
But when it was still several cable-lengths from the bark I saw the group upon her forward deck separate, and a long cannon was revealed. Its muzzle was slewed a little over the port bow and the next instant it spoke. The explosion sharply echoed across the sea, audible to my ears despite the huge roaring of the waterspout.
The column of water, rushing down upon the bark, was cut in twain by the ball from the gun. The connection ’twixt the whirling cloud and the whirling water was actually severed by it. Had the spout swept aboard the bark the great ship would have scarcely escaped complete wreck. As it was, the revolving water poured down into the ocean with the noise of a cascade, beating the sea to foam for yards and yards around, but without doing the slightest damage either to the bark, or to my little sloop.
The tornado tore into the north, smaller spouts leaping up and twirling in their mad dance, but none forming the threatening aspect of that which the bark’s gun had burst. In half an hour the sun was out and I dared spread a whisp of sail and ran down to hail the bark.
I saw the crew crowding to the rail. There was a large number for even a sailing vessel of these times, and I more than half suspected the nature of her business before a rope ladder was let down to me and I scrambled up the tall side of the craft with the bight of my sloop’s painter over my shoulder and saw the “nests” of boats stowed amidships.
“I say, young fellow!” was the greeting I received from a smart looking youngster—not much older than myself—who welcomed me at the rail “is that your whale?”
“If ‘findings is keepings’ it is surely mine,” I said. “But I didn’t kill it, and now I’ve got a leg over your rail I’ll give you all my title and share in the beast.”
“Good luck, boys!” rumbled a bewhiskered old barnacle who stood behind the young officer of the bark, “We’ve struck ile before we’re a week out o’ Bedford.”