Two days after this the water was quite smooth and the captain desired to do something to stop the leak forward, which kept the pumps going nearly all the time. It was necessary for some one to go over the bow in a "bow-line," and as the weather was cold and the person would dip in the water, it was an unpleasant as well as a dangerous task. The captain disliked to order any one to do it, but the mate volunteered to the work. A bed-quilt was cut up into long strips, and being lowered down over the bow in the bight of a rope with a stick, the mate proceeded to stuff the quilt into the open seam and then nailed canvas over it down to the water's edge. At every dip he was nearly submerged in the cold waves, but manfully did his work until the last nail was driven, and then the hammer dropped from his benumbed hand and he was drawn on board thoroughly chilled. He was taken to the cabin and treated to a stiff drink of whiskey. He soon recovered from the immediate effects of his exposure, though for some time after he felt the drain it made on his powers of endurance. The leak was reduced one half by his labors and he was regarded as a hero. All felt very anxious upon approaching the coast, fearing to encounter heavy weather while the ship was in this crippled condition. But in spite of our hopes the gales were destined to come. A few days after this, another gale set in at midnight, and at one o'clock in the morning all hands were called to double-reef the topsails. It was a dark, wild night, blowing hard with rain and sleet, and very cold. The crew were so worn out with exposure they were not very lively, and we were an hour and a quarter before we got below again. In reefing the fore-topsail we were aloft twenty minutes, the sail being wet and stiff and the yard not being properly braced to the wind so as to "spill" the sail. The captain swore we had been up there two hours, and said he would see if the main-topsail couldn't be worked quicker. He got his rope's end, and at the order "lay aloft," he flew around the deck and beat every man into the rigging; then he followed them aloft, thrashing at every one he reached. When they laid out on the yard, he walked out to each yard arm holding on to the top-gallant studding-sail booms, which were triced up, and beat each man over the head and shoulders. Standing in the maintop he struck at each sailor as he passed down. We were five minutes longer than we had been at the fore-topsail, but the captain flattered himself he had hurried matters. In memory, this dark night, the fierce storm, the cold blinding sleet, the weak and disheartened crew and the worst storm of rage, curses and blows from the captain, form an abiding impression of a demoniacal event.