"As to the Flying Dutchman," said Haines, "there's a good many stories about him, and I don't know which is the true one. The one that's oftenest told about him is that a Dutch captain, who wasn't a Christian or anything else that's respectable, tried to get around Cape Horn with a heavy gale blowing right in his teeth. He swore by all the bad words he knew that he would do it; and as the gale grew worse and his crew was frightened, he laughed at them as he drank his beer and smoked his pipe. They got up a mutiny, and tried to make him run into port somewhere; and he threw overboard every man who had joined in it. "They do say," said Haines, almost in a whisper, "that the Holy Ghost came down on the ship, and this Dutchman fired at it with his pistol! Of course he didn't hurt the Holy Ghost at all; but the bullet went through his own hand, and paralyzed his arm. He cursed God, and was then condemned to navigate the seas forever, without putting into port, having nothing but gall to drink and red-hot iron to eat, and to be standing watch all the time." [Illustration: THE SIGHT THAT MET HIS EYES WAS A TERRIBLE ONE. Page 70.] "That's pretty tough, seems to me," I remarked. "Did he really have to do it all?" "They do say," continued Haines, "that he's been doing it ever since, and that's more'n two hundred years ago. It's a misfortune to see his ship,--an awful misfortune! They say it's worse than to see the Devil to meet the Phantom Ship that the Flying Dutchman sails on. It always wants to speak to any vessel that comes within hailing distance, and always wants to send letters by her; but every ship that takes letters from her is sure to be lost." "Well, then, if I was captain of a ship," said I, "and met the Flying Dutchman, I wouldn't take any of his letters for him." "No more would I," said Haines; "but, what's more, when you see the Phantom Ship, even though you don't speak her or take letters from her, you are liable to have white squalls and hurricanes, waterspouts and tornadoes. He has a crew that are just as bad scoundrels as himself. They are thieves, cowards, murderers, and all such sort of fellows; and they have to do just as he does, stay on watch all the time, and eat and drink stuff that a Christian wouldn't and couldn't touch." "Did you ever see the Flying Dutchman's ship?" I asked. "N-o," said Haines, drawling out the word; "I've never seen the Phantom Ship myself, but I've a good many friends what has seen it. You're not likely to see him round these here latitudes; it's always away off somewhere, generally down by the Cape of Good Hope, and between that and Cape Horn. The Phantom Ship is always sailing with a fair wind and everything spread, and she looks like the great big ghost that she is. 'Tisn't such a very large ship, the kind of craft the Dutchmen used to have two or three hundred years ago; and the men that navigate her seem to know their business.