United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
We continued on our course, keeping a sharp lookout for our former
acquaintance, the British man-of-war, and for any other of her kind
that might be floating about the ocean. At that time Great Britain had
nearly a thousand ships-of-war of various kinds, large and small, and
kept them in pretty active service. You never knew when or where you
were likely to run against one of them; whenever you did meet one there
was a chance that she would take some of your men in the manner already
described. So it was the American policy to keep out of their reach, if
possible, and we could generally distinguish them from other ships, as
already explained, by their neat and trim appearance as compared with
merchantmen.
It was four or five days after we met the Warwick that the man at the
mast-head gave a call that put a new sensation in our veins. We had
become a little listless in our work, as the routine was exactly the
same from day to day, and from watch to watch, and though we were in
considerable dread as to what might be coming, the thrill of excitement
was by no means unwelcome.
A south-easterly breeze was blowing, and the skies above us were very
dark, in fact, they grew so dark as to make the broad midday that it
was seem like twilight, and though the Warwick was only two or three
miles away from us we couldn't make her out. The man at the mast-head
said it looked as if a squall was coming, and the captain paced the
quarter-deck in a very uneasy mood.
Suddenly and noiselessly a strange apparition descended out of the
blackness of the heavens! It looked to me as though a portion of a
cloud was descending toward the water. When it came down to within
fifteen or twenty feet of the sea the waters beneath it began to boil
and twist and foam. It was not more than a third of a mile away from
the ship, and the worst thing about it was that it came directly
towards us. It resembled an inverted cone touching the surface of the
ocean, and the water seemed to rise up to meet it.
My friend Haines was up aloft helping to take in the mainsail, so that
I could not ask him what the strange apparition was. By and by he came
down and around to where I stood, and as he reached me he remarked,--
"That's a dangerous thing, Jack! More dangerous than a British
man-of-war!"
"What is it?" I asked.
"That's a waterspout," he replied, "and a big one too. I never saw
one quite as large as that, nor as white. They're most of 'em black,
sometimes blacker even than the sky above is now, but this one, you
see, is a good deal whiter. If it ever hits us we're gone to the
bottom!"
"How does that happen?" I asked. "Does it let down a great lot of water
on the ship?"
"Yes, that's just what it does! It lets down water enough to drown a
ship and sink her out of sight. It's just as if you should empty a
whole barrel of water over one of the toy boats you used to make when
you were a small boy."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account