The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval LieutenantCupples, George
General
The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval Lieutenant
Cupples, George
Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
"At this, of course, I stood aside at once; and he shouted again,'Hoist
the jib and fore-topmast-staysail--stand by to set fore-course!' By
Jove! this was the way to pay the ship _head_ off, instead of stern off,
from the blast when it came--and to let her drive before it at no trifle
of a rate, wherever _that_ might take her! '_Down_ with that spanker, Mr
Macleod, d' ye hear?' roared Captain Williamson again; and, certainly, I
did wonder what he meant to do with the ship. But his manner was so
decided, and 'twas so natural for the captain to strain a point to come
on deck in the circumstances, that I saw he must have some trick of
seamanship above _me_, or some special knowledge of the coast--and I
waited in a state of the greatest excitement for the first stroke of the
tornado. He waved the second and third mates forward to their posts--the
Indiaman sheering and backing, like a frightened horse, to the long
slight swell and the faint flaw of the land-air. The black arch to
windward began to rise again, showing a terrible white stare reaching
deep in, and a blue dart of lightning actually ran zigzag down before
our glaring fore-to'gallant-mast. Suddenly, the captain had looked at
me, and we faced each other by the gleam; and, quiet, easy-going man as
he was commonly, it just flashed across me there was something
extraordinarily wild and _raised_ in his pale visage, strange as the air
about us made everyone appear. He gave a stride towards me, shouting,
'Who are----' when the thunder-clap took the words out of his tongue,
and next moment the tornado burst upon us, fierce as the wind from a
cannon's mouth.
"For one minute the _Seringapatam_ heeled over to her starboard streak,
almost broadside on, and her spars towards the land--all on her beam was
a long ragged white gush of light and mist pouring out under the black
brow of the clouds, with a trampling eddying roar up into the sky. The
swell plunged over her weather-side like the first break of a dam, and
as we scrambled up to the bulwarks, to hold on for bare life, you saw a
roller fit to swamp us, coming on out of the sheet of foam--when crash
went mizzen-topmast and main-to'gallant-mast; the ship payed swiftly off
by help of her headsails, and, with a leap like a harpooned whale, off
she drove fair before the tremendous sweep of the blast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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