to a person unaccustomed to the motion of an overloaded ship, the jerking and crashing going on below are unbearable. It is entirely different from a comfortable ’tween decks of a passenger ship. Every plank and timber is groaning with the strain, and the tremendous cracking will make it appear, at first, as if the vessel is going to pieces in a few moments. On the contrary, an old sailor knows that the more noise in the working timbers, up to a certain extent, the safer is the ship, for it is only sound timber that makes a great noise. As for me, I was asleep almost as soon as I had stretched out in my bunk, but almost instantly afterward I was awakened by a thundering shock that made the ship stagger. In a moment my door was burst open and a man stuck in his head and bawled, “All hands, sir!” CHAPTER VI. On gaining the deck I found a huge sea had fallen into the waist, filling the main-deck knee-deep with water. The weather was looking wild enough to windward. The ship was plunging into a mountainous sea, with nothing on her except the three narrow bands of lower topsails and forestaysail. She was heeling over to the gale until her lee deckstrake was level with the sea, while the deep roar of the wind, as it tore its way through the rigging, told plainly of the pressure on the canvas. The flying, swirling drift struck the face so hard that it was impossible to look but for a moment to windward. I noticed Brown had turned out and was sheltering himself as best he might while he clung to the lee mizzen rigging. Captain Crojack was on deck, and O’Toole had gone forward to call all hands. We had been hove to all the morning on the port track, but, as the barometer fell steadily, the skipper saw, as soon as the wind began to chop around to the eastward, that he was nearing the centre of the cyclone. All hands were then called to wear ship. As the men took their places at the braces, the skipper gave the order to put the wheel hard up, when the forestaysail, which had held during all the morning, parted from the stay with a loud crack and was gone. The heavy ship wore slowly under the three lower topsails, but finally came up on the starboard tack, heading almost due north. When she first headed the sea, a big fellow caught her a little forward of the starboard beam and bore her down until her lee rail was well under water. Then, with a sudden lurch, she righted, sending the flood across the deck and filling the forward cabin and alleyways. The main-deck was full of water, and under the extra load the clipper settled almost to her deck amidships. The ports in the bulwarks were nailed up and the water would not get clear fast enough through the scuppers. The men were called aft on the poop, while O’Toole and myself, armed with handspikes, started to break out the bulwarks in the waist.