e iceberg.

We thought that we should now quietly pursue our way upon the placid
sea, trusting confidently in its peaceful name. For three whole
days we had nothing to complain of; but in the night of the 19th to
the 20th of February, we were overtaken by a storm worthy of the
Atlantic itself, which lasted for nearly twenty-four hours, and cost
us four sails. We suffered most damage from the tremendous waves,
which broke with such fury over the ship, that they tore up one of
the planks of the deck, and let the water into the cargo of sugar.
The deck itself was like a lake, and the portholes had to be opened
in order to get rid of the water more quickly. The water leaked in
the hold at the rate of two inches an hour. We could not light any
fire, and were obliged to content ourselves with bread and cheese
and raw ham, which we with great difficulty conveyed to our mouth as
we sat upon the ground.

The last cask of lamp oil, too, fell a sacrifice to this storm,
having been torn from its fastenings, and broken into pieces. The
captain was very apprehensive of not having enough oil to light the
compass till we arrived at Valparaiso; and all the lamps on the ship
were, in consequence, replaced by candles, and the small quantity of
oil remaining kept for the compass. In spite of all these
annoyances, we kept up our spirits, and even, during the storm, we
could scarcely refrain from laughing at the comical positions we all
fell into whenever we attempted to stand up.

The remainder of the voyage to Valparaiso was calm, but excessively
disagreeable. The captain wished to present a magnificent
appearance on arriving, so that the good people might believe that
wind and waves could not injure his fine vessel. He had the whole
ship painted from top to bottom with oil colours; even the little
doors in the cabins were not spared this infliction. Not content
with creating a most horrible disturbance over our heads, the
carpenter invaded even our cabins, filling all our things with
sawdust and dirt, so that we poor passengers had not a dry or quiet
place of refuge in the whole ship. Just as much as we had been
pleased with Captain Bell's politeness during all the previous part
of the voyage, were we indignant at his behaviour during the last
five or six days. But we could offer no resistance, for the captain
is an autocrat on board his own ship, knowing neither a constitution
nor any other limit to his despotic power.