and
instinctively put his helm down too. The two vessels swung side by side
amidst a thunderous roar of flapping canvas, crackling of fallen spars,
and rending of wood as the shrouds tore away the bulwarks. All our
davits were ripped from the starboard side, and most of our bulwarks
too; but, strangely enough, we lost no spars nor any important gear.
There seemed to be a good deal of damage done on board the stranger,
where, in addition, all hands were at their wits' end. Well they might
be, aroused from so criminal a sleep as theirs. Fortunately, the third
mate had powerful bull's-eye lantern, which in his watch on deck he
always kept lighted. Turning it on the stern of the delinquent vessel
as she slowly forged clear of us, we easily read her name, which, for
shame's sake as well as for prudential reasons, I withhold. She was a
London ship, and a pretty fine time of it I had for the next day or
two, listening to the jeers and sarcasms on the quality of British
seamanship.

Repairing damages kept us busy for a few days; but whatever of
thankfulness we were capable of feeling was aroused by this hairbreadth
escape from death through the wicked neglect of the most elementary duty
of any man calling himself a seaman.

Then a period of regular Western-ocean weather set in. It was early
spring in the third year since our departure from this part of the
world, and the north-easter blew with bitter severity, making even the
seasoned old captain wince again; but, as he jovially said, "it smelt
homey, n' HE warn't a-goin' ter growl at thet." Neither were any of
us, although we could have done with less of a sharp edge to it all the
same.

Steadily we battled northward, until at last, with full hearts, we made
Cape Navesink ("Ole Neversunk"), and on the next day took a tug and
towed into New Bedford with every flag we could scare up flying, the
centre of admiration--a full whale-ship safe back from her long, long
fishing round the world.

My pleasant talk is done. I wish from my heart it were better performed;
but, having done my best, I must perforce be content. If in some small
measure I have been able to make you, my friendly reader, acquainted
with a little-known or appreciated side of life, and in any wise made
that life a real matter to you, giving you a fresh interest in the
toilers of the sea, my work has not been wholly in vain. And with that
fond hope I give you the sailor's valedictory--

SO LONG!

E