n to
the royals and studding-sails rigged out on both sides, was coming
straight for us, and distant only a few hundred yards. Our brig, being
hove to, was helpless to get out of the way. Certain destruction seemed
inevitable, with no possible hope of escaping a speedy death. I yelled
out at the top of my voice, "A ship on the lee beam!" Jimmy, at the
wheel, got a glimpse of the ship, and let out a yelp that brought the
mate on deck. The mate, who had been loafing in the cabin and shirking
his duty, also did some tall yelping when he saw our danger. There was
no chance to get on our knees to pray then. The decks were too wet and
slippery, besides, we had to use our hands to keep from being washed
overboard. As we could not do the proper thing in orthodox style, we
did some tall cursing, as being the next best thing under the
circumstances. Swearing is a sailor's balm for many ills.

We were terribly excited; only a few seconds and all would be over with
us. Our brig was drifting north at the rate of three miles an hour. The
strange vessel was heading south in that gale and with all sails set;
she should have been racing through the water at a twenty-knots rate.
You can imagine our surprise when we observed that the other vessel was
rapidly going backward and disappearing in a hazy mist. Suddenly there
was a break in the clouds, and we had a glimpse of the full moon for a
few minutes, for the first time in several weeks, although the nights
were nearly twenty hours in length. Soon we were in darkness again. That
was our first experience with the ship Flying Dutchman. The whole affair
had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that we had no time to think.
The idea of a ship carrying all sail in that gale was ridiculous, but to
sail dead against the wind was still more so. We were very much
disgusted with ourselves for being so badly fooled, but, at the same
time, we were a greatly scared lot of sailors. The explanation was
simple enough. The clouds were black and heavy, flying low down near the
water. A rift in them allowed the moon to shine dimly between the edges
and cause the illusion. A few nights afterward we were running before
the wind. All hands were close-reefing the main top-sail. Off the port
bow we saw what appeared to be a ship on fire. Our course was altered to
that direction, and it proved to be the old Dutchman again. At last the
gale from the south broke up. We had got into the "pamperos"--westerly
winds