Sunday, December 25th, was Christmas with us as well as with those at home. And, although we had no visits from Santa Claus, we felt very happy, and knew that when another Christmas-day came round, if living, we should be enjoying it with loved ones at home. The best on board ship was served up for dinner, and all hands enjoyed it with a keen relish, sharpened by the anticipation of the good things yet to come. We were now about eighty degrees to the westward, and twenty to the northward of Cape Horn. From this time until Tuesday, January 24th, we bowled it along merrily with a southwest wind, every thing set that would draw, and every hour lessening the distance between us and the Cape. On that day the gale increased to almost a hurricane, and hauled to the west. We were “scudding” before it, with close-reefed topsails, a heavy sea running, and threatening to ingulf us every moment. The wind increasing and sea still rising, it was deemed prudent to “heave-to.” This was a dangerous proceeding in such a gale, but, with careful management at the helm, it could be done. All hands were called, and placed at their stations. The second and third officers took the helm, the men stationed at the braces, and the ship’s head slowly brought to the wind. She gallantly came up; but a wave—an _avalanche_ of water—struck her on the quarter, dashed in on deck, sweeping every thing before it. “Hold on for your lives!” was the cry from the captain’s lips, and each man grasped the rigging, expecting every moment to be swept overboard. It was a fearful moment. The brave men at the helm were up to their waists in water, but bravely they clung to the wheel, knowing that if they left it death and destruction awaited us all. The body of water on deck was immense, being filled to the rail; and as the noble old ship would roll fearfully from side to side, it would seem as if she never would recover herself. By dint of great exertion, boards were knocked off the bulwarks, and the water began to pour out. This rendered her laboring more easy, and she was soon “luffed-to,” and rode comparatively easy. We all breathed more freely when this was done, and felt that we had had a narrow escape. As we remained on deck watching the scene, we could not but contemplate its grandeur. As the ship would rise on the top of a gigantic wave, it seemed as if we were placed on the summit of a high mountain, with a yawning gulf at our feet, into which the ship would rapidly plunge as if she would bury herself. A feeling of awe and terror would involuntarily creep over us as she alternately rose to the crest of the mountain waves, and again plunged downward with fearful velocity, as if every plunge would be her last.