e could
demonstrate to the Scandinavian seamen that he also was an able seaman.

But one stormy night, by an accident for which he was in nowise
accountable, in overhauling a spare anchor-chain he had all the fingers
of his left hand badly crushed. And his hopes were likewise crushed, for
it was impossible for him to continue hunting with the boats, and he was
forced to stay idly aboard until his fingers should heal. Yet, although
he little dreamed it, this very accident was to give him the
long-looked-for-opportunity.

One afternoon in the latter part of May the _Sophie Sutherland_ rolled
sluggishly in a breathless calm. The seals were abundant, the hunting
good, and the boats were all away and out of sight. And with them was
almost every man of the crew. Besides Chris, there remained only the
captain, the sailing-master and the Chinese cook.

The captain was captain only by courtesy. He was an old man, past
eighty, and blissfully ignorant of the sea and its ways; but he was the
owner of the vessel, and hence the honorable title. Of course the
sailing-master, who was really captain, was a thorough-going seaman. The
mate, whose post was aboard, was out with the boats, having temporarily
taken Chris's place as boat-steerer.

When good weather and good sport came together, the boats were
accustomed to range far and wide, and often did not return to the
schooner until long after dark. But for all that it was a perfect
hunting day, Chris noted a growing anxiety on the part of the
sailing-master. He paced the deck nervously, and was constantly sweeping
the horizon with his marine glasses. Not a boat was in sight. As sunset
arrived, he even sent Chris aloft to the mizzen-topmast-head, but with
no better luck. The boats could not possibly be back before midnight.

Since noon the barometer had been falling with startling rapidity, and
all the signs were ripe for a great storm--how great, not even the
sailing-master anticipated. He and Chris set to work to prepare for it.
They put storm gaskets on the furled topsails, lowered and stowed the
foresail and spanker and took in the two inner jibs. In the one
remaining jib they put a single reef, and a single reef in the mainsail.

Night had fallen before they finished, and with the darkness came the
storm. A low moan swept over the sea, and the wind struck the _Sophie
Sutherland_ flat. But she righted quickly, and with the sailing-master
at the wheel, sheered her bow into withi