Foxholme Hall, and Other TalesKingston, William Henry Giles
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Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Adventure stories; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"One would have supposed that we had had enough of storms and accidents
for one voyage, but we had soon to learn that we had something more to
go through. Mrs Derick had by this time become something like herself
again, and as for the captain, though he felt more than any one, he
never changed. He sang and joked as much as ever, and even sneered at
the old woman and her jolly-boat, as he called it. I cannot describe
what happened every day of the voyage, so I must merely mention the most
remarkable events. It was in the afternoon watch, when, as I was
sweeping the horizon with my glass, I observed an unusual dark
appearance on the water. Some said that it was a sand-bank, others an
island, some a shoal fish, but I saw that it was a heavy squall driving
furiously over the hitherto smooth unruffled sea. I was not mistaken.
I called Captain Derick on deck, and the hands were sent aloft to lower
topgallant yards and to furl every sail, except the fore-topsail, which
was closely reefed. The men sprang to their duty, for they saw that not
a moment was to be lost. The ship was put before the wind just in time.
Down came the squall upon us, roaring, and tearing, and hissing along
the ocean. Away we flew before it like a sea-bird on the wing. Our
only danger was lest we should not be far enough to the south to clear
the land of the Patagonians--the renowned Cape Horn.
"Every moment the fury of the gale increased, the waves rose higher, and
the wind roared louder. Everything on deck was secured, and preventer
braces were put on the fore and fore-topsail yards to assist in securing
them. As night approached the terrific contest increased. The sea,
which ran on either beam in high mountainous surges, broke with an awful
roar; the stern of the ship now lifted on the summit of a wave, and the
next instant her bow was plunging madly into the dark trough which
yearned apparently to engulf her. The thunder rattled loudly through
the heavy sky, the vivid lightning played threateningly round the masts,
and the wind howled and whistled through the rigging. Those who had
never before felt fear in a storm, now trembled with alarm. On we drove
with impetuous violence, the hands at the wheel scarcely able to keep
the ship before the boiling seas, which, as they curled up astern,
seemed ready to rush down on our decks and overwhelm us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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