vessels. But while in the ordinary
merchantman there are decidedly "no more cats than can catch mice,"
hardly, indeed, sufficient for all the mousing that should be done, in
men-of-war and whaleships the number of hands carried, being far more
than are wanted for everyday work, must needs be kept at unnecessary
duties in order that they may not grow lazy and discontented.

For instance, in the CACHALOT we carried a crew of thirty-seven all
told, of which twenty-four were men before the mast, or common seamen,
our tonnage being under 400 tons. Many a splendid clipper-ship carrying
an enormous spread of canvas on four masts, and not overloaded with 2500
tons of cargo on board, carries twenty-eight or thirty all told, or even
less than that. As far as we were concerned, the result of this was that
our landsmen got so thoroughly drilled, that within a week of leaving
port they hardly knew themselves for the clumsy clodhoppers they at
first appeared to be.

We had now been eight days out, and in our leisurely way were making
fair progress across the Atlantic, having had nothing, so far, but
steady breezes and fine weather. As it was late autumn the first week
in October--I rather wondered at this, for even in my brief experience I
had learned to dread a "fall" voyage across the "Western Ocean."

Gradually the face of the sky changed, and the feel of the air, from
balmy and genial, became raw and cheerless. The little wave tops broke
short off and blew backwards, apparently against the wind, while the
old vessel had an uneasy, unnatural motion, caused by a long, new swell
rolling athwart the existing set of the sea. Then the wind became fitful
and changeable, backing half round the compass, and veering forward
again as much in an hour, until at last in one tremendous squall
it settled in the N.W. for a business-like blow, Unlike the hurried
merchantman who must needs "hang on" till the last minute, only
shortening the sail when absolutely compelled to do so, and at the first
sign of the gales relenting, piling it on again, we were all snug long
before the storm burst upon us, and now rode comfortably under the
tiniest of storm staysails.

We were evidently in for a fair specimen of Western Ocean weather, but
the clumsy-looking, old-fashioned CACHALOT made no more fuss over it
than one of the long-winged sea-birds that floated around, intent only
upon snapping up any stray scraps that might escape from us. Higher rose
the