berg really got into a dangerous position, and this one
was as carefully plotted and its position as thoroughly made known to
vessels navigating the Atlantic as though it were a fixture. The course
of the large Atlantic greyhound _La France_ lay directly in the path of
the berg and, had it not been for the warnings of the _Miami_, there
might have been another ocean disaster to record. As the summer months
approached, the cruising was delightful but not particularly
interesting, and Eric, who craved excitement, was glad when, at the end
of June, the _Miami_ was ordered to resume her old station at Key West.

Two months passed before an emergency arose, but when it did come, it
proved to be one to tax the Coast Guard cutter to the full. Toward the
end of September a storm warning of a hurricane was issued, and the
_Miami_, which was searching for a derelict reported two hundred miles
west of Daytona, Florida, decided to run for Matanzas Inlet. About
daylight the next morning, the first actual warning of the hurricane,
aside from the notice sent out by the Weather Bureau, began to show
itself in short gusty puffs. The barometer fell low, finally touching
28 deg., lower than Eric had ever seen before.

The sky clouded gradually, and by breakfast time, the wind was
freshening from the southeast. By ten o'clock, the wind had risen to
half a gale, and before noon it was blowing not less than forty to fifty
miles an hour. The _Miami_ made good weather, but in the afternoon the
hurricane reached such a pitch of violence that it was decided to run
before the storm and try for the lee of Cape Fear, possibly finding a
safe anchorage in Masonboro Inlet.

As evening drew on the seas became appalling. The _Miami_ pitched her
nose down in the water, shipping it green with almost every dive, while
her propeller raced ten feet clear of water; next instant her stern
would settle as though she would never rise, while the bow climbed up
and up as the trough rolled underneath her. Eric, who was absolutely
free of any fear of the sea, enjoyed the storm extremely. It was tiring,
however, for, every second of the time, one had to hang on to something
for fear either of being washed overboard, or hurled around like a
catapult from a sling. When, therefore, the gaunt figure of Cape Fear
light was passed and the _Miami_ slipped in behind the lee of Smith
Island, every one felt a relief from the mad tossing.

They had not known this relief for