On leaving the roads of Madras, we bent our course to the eastward. For a day or two we had light winds and agreeable weather, and our gallant vessel glided on, under a cloud of snowy canvas, like some stainless swan before the dimpling breezes of a mountain tarn, little heeding the coming danger, which was to lay all her bravery low. Soon, however, a (by me) never-to-be-forgotten tornado, which I shall attempt to describe, burst in upon us in all its fury. The first indication we had of the coming storm (being still but a short distance from Madras) was on the morning of the third day, when a few wild clouds began to scatter themselves over the face of the hitherto spotless sky. The breeze freshened, and an occasional squall made the good ship _salaam_ deeply to the waves. Captain McGuffin looked to windward, shook his head, and appeared grave. He now (for there was evidently mischief brewing) held a brief consultation with Gillans, the chief mate, and then immediately ordered the small sails to be taken in. At about 8 P.M. of the same day, the fore and main topsails, as I was told, were double-reefed, and the mainsail and maintopsail furled. The next morning, the breeze still continued strong, and the albatrosses and gannets, heralds of the storm, skimmed wildly over the yeasty waves. A heavy and a turbulent sea now got up, which broke over the ship, causing her to roll heavily, and admit much water. “We’re in for it, I’m afraid,” said Grinnerson to the first mate, “and no mistake.” “You may say that, when you write home to your friends,” growled forth that sententious worthy; “I’d rather be looking at the end than the beginning of it, I can tell you.” Scarcely were the words out of Gillan’s mouth, when a screeching blast flew through the shrouds and ratlines; “bang!” went one of the sails, with the report of a six-pounder, and the _Rottenbeam Castle_ took a deep and fearful heel to leeward. “How’s her head now?” said Gillans, with energy, starting up, to the man at the wheel. “North-east, and by east, sir,” was the quick reply. “All hands aloft,” roared the mate, “to take in mainsail;” and away went the tars swarming up the rigging, poor little shivering middies and all, and the perilous duty was soon performed, the sail being set to steady her. Towards noon, the wind and sea increased, and the weather wore a still more threatening appearance. There are few situations which more thoroughly call forth all the noble energies and resources of man’s mind, than the working of a vessel in a tempest, or the ordering of troops in the heat of a battle. A cool head, and nerves as steady as a rock, are essentially necessary in both. McGuffin was quite a Wellington in his way; and on the present occasion, I felt a pride in my countrymen, as I marked him, the officers, and men, calmly preparing, as it were, move by move, for the coming onset of the gale.