tance.

At eight o'clock, when the watch was called, the schooner was put under
short canvas, and due preparations were made for any change in the
weather. The starboard watch was then told to go below, but to "be ready
for a call." This watch, all told, consisted of the old French carpenter
and myself, and we gladly descended into the narrow, leaky, steaming
den, called the forecastle, reposing full confidence in the vigilance of
our shipmates in the larboard watch, and knowing that if the ship should
be dismasted, or even capsized, while we were quietly sleeping below, it
would be through no fault of ours, and we could not be held responsible.
In five minutes after the forescuttle was closed, we were snugly
ensconced in our berths, oblivious of squalls and gales, and all the
disagreeable duties of making and taking in sail on a wet and stormy
night, enjoying a comfortable nap and dreaming of happy times on shore.

We were soon aroused from our dreams, and brought back to the realities
of life, by the rough voice of my old shipmate, Eastman, yelling out in
tones which would have carried terror to the soul of an Indian warrior,
"ALL HANDS AHOY! Tumble up, lads! Bear a hand on deck!" I jumped out of
my berth, caught my jacket in one hand, and my tarpaulin in the other,
and hastened on deck, closely followed by the carpenter, and also the
cook, whose office being little better than a sinecure, he was called
upon whenever help was wanted. The wind was blowing a gale, and the
rain was falling in heavy drops, and the schooner was running off to the
southward at a tremendous rate, with the wind on the quarter.

"There is a waterspout after us," exclaimed Captain Turner, as we made
our appearance, "and we must give it the slip, or be grabbed by Davy
Jones. Be alive for once! If that fellow comes over us, he will capsize,
perhaps sink us! Stand by!"

I looked astern, and saw, about a point on the larboard quarter, a
black, misshapen body, which seemed to reach from the heavens down to
the surface of the sea. Although the night was dark as Erebus, this mass
could easily be distinguished from the thick clouds which shut out the
stars, and covered the whole surface of the sky. It moved towards us
with fearful rapidity, being much fleeter in the race than our little
schooner.

The captain, who, to do him justice, was not only a good sailor, but
cool and resolute in the hour of danger, would fix his eye one moment on
the waters