Jonas Webb.
We were a long time regaining our lost ground. I remember at length finding the ship gliding over huge glass-like billows, which came rolling slowly and majestically, as if moved upwards and onwards by some unseen power, with deep, broad valleys between them, into which the ship sinking, their sides alone bounded the view from her deck ahead and astern. On the right rose however, above them, a high, rocky headland, which the third mate told Miss Kitty, as she stood on the deck gazing at the shore, was Cape Horn.
“I could fancy it some giant demigod, the monarch of these watery realms,” she observed. “He looks serene and good-tempered at present; but how fearful must be these mighty waves when he is enraged, and fierce storms blow across them.”
“You are indeed right, Miss Kitty,” he answered; “and for my part, on such occasions, I prefer giving his majesty a wide berth and keeping out of sight of his frown. Provided the ship is sound, and the rigging well set up, we have little dread of these vast waves. A short chopping sea is far more dangerous. However, we shall soon be round the ‘Cape,’ and then I hope for your sake we shall have fine weather and smooth water.”
She stood for some time holding on to a stanchion, gazing at the scene so strange to her eyes.
The captain coming on deck to satisfy himself that all was going on properly, the mate stepped forward to attend to some duty. As the former’s rubicund visage disappeared beneath the companion-hatch, Mr Falconer returned aft.
“I have been thinking, Edward, that I was wrong to give the reins to my fancy, as I did just now,” said Kitty, in her sweet, artless way. “I should have remembered that He who made the world governs the wide ocean—the tides and currents move at His command, and He it is who bids the waters be at rest, or sends the whirlwind sweeping over them. I feel that it is wrong, even in poetry, to assign to beings of the imagination the power which alone belongs to Him. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, though I should not have thought you wrong,” answered the young officer, gazing at her with admiration. “But I do understand you, and I am sure that you are right. God is a jealous God, and cannot of course admit of any detraction from His authority by the creatures He has formed. I see that every form of idolatry, whether the idol be worshipped or not, must be offensive to Him—whether men assign His power to others, or attempt to approach Him in prayer through the mediation of saints or angels, when He has told them to draw near to the throne of grace according to the one way He has appointed.”
It may seem strange that I should have recollected this conversation. In truth, I did not, and it was not till many years afterwards that I was told of it. Indeed, I may confess once for all, that had I not possessed the advantage of communicating with some of the principal actors, I should have been unable to describe many of the events which occurred at that period of my existence. I remember, however, the captain, and his amiable consort, Mrs Podgers, and the snappish cruel way she spoke to sweet Miss Kitty and Edward Falconer. She appeared, indeed, to detest him, and took every opportunity of showing her dislike by all sorts of petty annoyances. He bore them all with wonderful equanimity, perhaps for Kitty’s sake, perhaps because he despised their author. Sometimes, when he came on deck after dining in the cabin, he would burst into a fit of laughter, as if enjoying a good joke, and would continue to smile when Kitty appeared with a look of vexation and pain on her countenance, supposing he must have been annoyed beyond endurance.
We had just doubled the Cape, when another sail was seen crossing our course, now rising up against the clear sky, now sinking so low that only her upper canvas was visible. We approached each other, when the stranger made a signal that she would send a boat aboard us. We also hove-to, and began gracefully bowing away at each other, as if the ships were exchanging compliments. A seaman with his bag stepped on board when the boat came alongside, and offered to remain, if the captain would receive him as a volunteer. The mate who came in the boat, saying he was an experienced hand, and had been in the Pacific several years, the captain at once accepted his services. We gave the mate the last news from England and several newspapers, and he, in return, offered to take any letters our people might have ready to send home. In a short time we each filled, and stood on our respective courses.