We met the strong westerly winds as we approached the latitude of the dreaded Horn, which is seldom to be caught asleep on the outward passage, the prevailing winds having almost the regularity of trades as to direction; and for three weeks they blew south-west and west, so that all hands were well initiated to the beauties of this delectable corner of the world. We were obliged to keep mostly on the starboard tack, and stretch to the southward nearly to the latitude of sixty degrees, which brought us completely out of the track of homeward-bound ships, who, with the same winds would hug the land and give it the go-by under a press of canvas. "Begins with strong gales from west-south-west and rugged sea," became a standing form of entry in our journals till we tired of the sight of the words; and day by day our stout ship struggled, and wallowed and tumbled about, till our patience was well-nigh exhausted. Heavy squalls, accompanied by a peculiar, sharp hail, which cut our flesh like small shot, sometimes varied the entertainment. Yarns, as usual, whiled away the dreary night watches; the experiences of former voyages were referred to, and the changes rung upon them; the cooper drew his bow with a strong hand and heaped Pelion upon Ossa in the way of falsehood; while Father Grafton entertained us with more reliable stories, not only of his own experiences, but of those of other voyagers, going back to the days of LeMaire and Schouten, who gave the cape its name, and coming down through the eras of Anson and Cook to the voyage of the little ship Beaver, of Nantucket, the pioneer of Pacific whaling, which doubled the Horn in 1791, and made her voyage in seventeen months. His memory was well stored with facts of this kind, and so arranged that he could draw freely upon them as they were wanted. A most entertaining companion was our worthy chief officer, and the night watches slipped away much more pleasantly to me since my change of station had brought me nearer to him.
After standing so far south, we could do something on the other tack, taking the advantage of slants of wind. Our progress was slow and wearisome; but perseverance at last prevailed over all obstacles, the redoubtable headland was doubled without further accident than the loss of another boat washed off the waist cranes in a gale, and a few days more saw the gallant Arethusa doing her best to make up for her lost time; as, seemingly conscious of her tardiness, and rejoicing in her freedom from Antarctic thraldom, she went rolling down the coasts of Patagonia and Chili before a "long and strong souther."
CHAPTER XII.
FISHING AT JUAN FERNANDEZ.—FIGHT WITH AN UGLY WHALE.
"Blacksmith, how long is it since you read Robinson Crusoe?" asked the mate, as he stopped in his walk near the mainmast, and leaned against the top-sail-sheet bitts. "Some years, I suppose?"
"No, sir," said I. "The last time I read it was less than one year ago, and I found it as fresh and entertaining as ever."
"No doubt of it," replied Father Grafton. "Nothing connected with my schoolboy days has so firmly stamped itself on my memory as the appearance of the old copy of Crusoe, that I owned for many years; indeed, I carried it to sea with me on my first voyage, and it was accidentally lost overboard. I can see the brown paper and the quaint old type with its f and long s so dangerously alike, and its horrible woodcuts! for it was a copy of a very old edition, and had, no doubt, delighted two or three generations of boys before it fell into my hands. But what reminded me of it to-night is the fact that we shall probably make Juan Fernandez to-morrow."
"Yet this island is not mentioned in the story, I believe," said I.