companion ship to us from
Portland, Oregon to Falmouth, whose mate informed me that they carried
their royals from port to port without ever furling them once, except
to shift the suit of sails. But now a change was evidently imminent. Of
course, we forward had no access to the barometer; not that we should
have understood its indications if we had seen it, but we all knew that
something was going to be radically wrong with the weather. For instead
of the lovely blue of the sky we had been so long accustomed to by
day and night, a nasty, greasy shade had come over the heavens,
which, reflected in the sea, made that look dirty and stale also. That
well-known appearance of the waves before a storm was also very marked,
which consists of an undecided sort of break in their tops. Instead of
running regularly, they seemed to hunch themselves up in little heaps,
and throw off a tiny flutter of spray, which generally fell in the
opposite direction to what little wind there was. The pigs and fowls
felt the approaching change keenly, and manifested the greatest
uneasiness, leaving their food and acting strangely. We were making
scarcely any headway, so that the storm was longer making its appearance
than it would have been had we been a swift clipper ship running down
the Indian Ocean. For two days we were kept in suspense; but on the
second night the gloom began to deepen, the wind to moan, and a very
uncomfortable "jobble" of a sea got up. Extra "gaskets" were put upon
the sails, and everything movable about the decks was made as secure as
it could be. Only the two close-reefed topsails and two storm stay-sails
were carried, so that we were in excellent trim for fighting the bad
weather when it did come. The sky gradually darkened and assumed a livid
green tint, the effect of which was most peculiar.

The wind blew fitfully in short, gusts, veering continually back and
forth over about a quarter of the compass. Although it was still light,
it kept up an incessant mournful moan not to be accounted for in
any way. Darker and darker grew the heavens, although no clouds were
visible, only a general pall of darkness. Glimmering lightnings played
continually about the eastern horizon, but not brilliant enough to show
us the approaching storm-cloud. And so came the morning of the third
day from the beginning of the change. But for the clock we should hardly
have known that day had broken, so gloomy and dark was the sky. At last
light