II.
A SQUALL IN THE GERMAN OCEAN.
“Mr. Cleats!” said Professor Hamblin, in the most sternly solemn and impressive manner, as he rushed up to the adult boatswain of the Josephine.
“Here, sir!” responded the old salt, touching his cap as politely as though the learned gentleman had been an admiral.
“I want a boat, sir,” continued the professor, fiercely.
“Your honor must apply to the captain,” answered Cleats, touching his cap again.
“I have applied to him, and he has refused me. I desire you to take a boat, and row me to the ship. The carpenter can assist you.”
“Bless your honor’s heart, I can’t go without the captain’s orders,” added Cleats, opening his eyes as wide as though he had been invited to head a mutiny.
“I will protect you from any harm, Mr. Cleats. I will represent the matter to Mr. Lowington.”
“I never do anything, your honor, without orders from the captain. It would be mutiny for me to do so, and I should be hung at the fore yard-arm.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Cleats! Will you listen to reason?”
“Sartain, your honor. I always listen to reason; but there isn’t any reason in leaving the ship without the captain’s orders.”
“But the captain says I may have the boat; and I only want a couple of men to row it.”
“I will pull the boat with the greatest pleasure, sir, if the captain orders me to do so; or the first lieutenant, for that matter, sir. I always obey orders, sir, if it sinks the ship.”
“I have a complaint to make against the captain for disobedience of my orders, and he will not permit me to go on board of the ship to prefer the charge.”
“Whew!” whistled the boatswain, as long and loud as though the sound had been made with his own shrill pipe. “A complaint against the captain! I beg your honor’s pardon, but that can’t be. Nobody can have a complaint against the captain.”
“I do not wish to argue the matter with you. Will you do what I ask, or not?”
“I beg your honor’s pardon, but I will not,” replied Cleats, who seemed to have no doubt in regard to his own course, whatever rupture there might be among the powers above him.
“That’s enough,” growled Mr. Hamblin, turning on his heel.
“There’s a big squall coming, your honor,” added Cleats, loud enough for the professor to hear him. “The boat wouldn’t live a minute in it.”
“I am not afraid of the squall,” replied the learned gentleman, pausing. “Will you row the boat?”
“No, sir; I would rather not,” answered Cleats, shaking his head.
At this moment a heavy roaring, rushing sound came over the sea from the direction of the land. The water was covered with a dense white mist. The sound increased in volume till it vied with the booming thunder, and the surface of the sea was lashed into a snowy foam by the coming tempest.
“Down with the jib and mainsail!” shouted Captain Kendall, sharply.
“Stand by the mainsail halyards!” said Terrill, through his speaking trumpet. “Man the jib halyards and downhaul!”
“All ready, sir,” replied the second lieutenant, forward; for all hands were still at their stations, in anticipation of the emergency.
“All ready, sir,” added the fourth lieutenant, whose place was on the quarter-deck.
“Let go the mainsail halyards!” added the first lieutenant; and the order was repeated by the fourth lieutenant. “Down with it, lively!”
The heavy sail, assisted by twenty pairs of willing and eager hands, rattled down in an instant, and was speedily secured.
“Let go the jib halyards! Haul down!” said the second lieutenant, on the forecastle, when the order to take in the jib reached him.
The hands “walked away” with the downhaul, and the jib was on the bowsprit in an instant.
“Lay out and stow the jib!” added the officer. “Mind your eye there! The squall is upon us!”
The roar of the squall—heard at first miles away—swept along over the ocean, carrying a tempest of foam and spray before it, and came down upon the Josephine. Though she carried no sail, the force of the wind was enough to heel her down, while the spray leaped over her decks in the furious blast. The scene was grand and sublime. The thunders roared; the lightnings seemed to hiss in their fury, as they darted through the moist atmosphere; and the wind, hardly less than a hurricane, howled in unison with the booming thunderbolts.
At first, on the long swells of the ocean, which a moment before had been as smooth and glassy as a mirror, thousands of little white-capped waves gathered, throwing up volumes of fine spray, which was borne away by the tempest; so that the air was laden with moisture. Though the squall came heavy in the beginning, it did not attain its full power for several minutes. The effect even of the onslaught of the tempest was tremendous, and officers and crew clung to the rigging and the wood-work of the vessel, fearful that the savage blast would take them bodily from their feet, and bear them away into the angry ocean.
“Down with the helm!” roared Captain Kendall to the quartermaster, who, with four of the strongest seamen, had been stationed at the wheel.
The action of the fierce wind upon the vessel’s side was powerful enough to give her steerage-way without any sail, and her head came up to the gale, so that she took the blast on her port bow. Thus far, the effect upon the ocean did not correspond with the violence of the tempest; for even the severest blow does not immediately create a heavy sea. But, if the tempest continued even for a few minutes, this result was sure to follow. There is no especial peril in a squall, if the seaman has had time to take in sail, unless in a heavy sea; but it does not take long for a hurricane, in the open ocean, to stir up the water to its maddest fury.
Professor Hamblin was walking up and down in the waist,—a very pretty type of the squall itself,—when the initial stroke of the tempest came upon the Josephine. His “stove-pipe” hat, as non-nautical as anything could be, which he persisted in wearing, was tipped from his head, and borne over the rail into the sea. This accident did not improve his temper, and he was on the point of asking the captain to send a boat to pick up his lost tile, when the full force of the squall began to be expended upon the vessel. He found himself unable to stand up; and he reeled to the mainmast, where Professor Stoute was already moored to the fife-rail.
“Wouldn’t you like the boat now, Mr. Hamblin?” chuckled the jolly professor, hardly able to speak without having his words blown down his throat.
“I’ve lost my hat,” growled the learned gentleman, almost choked with ill-nature within, and the ill-wind without.
“Ask the captain to send a boat for it,” laughed Mr. Stoute. “There he stands! Upon my word, he is a wonder to me! He handles the vessel like an old admiral who has been imbedded in salt for forty years!”
“Any boy
