n, to
receive another push from the contrary direction. Presently,
disengaging his hands from those who held them, the enraged seaman drew
from his bosom an iron belaying-pin, and recklessly laid about him to
right and left. Most of his persecutors fled; but some eight or ten
still stood their ground, and, while bearing him aloft, endeavoured to
wrest the weapon from his hands. In this attempt, one man was struck on
the head, and dropped insensible. He was taken up for dead, and carried
below to Cuticle, the surgeon, while the Portuguese was put under
guard. But the wound did not prove very serious; and in a few days the
man was walking about the deck, with his head well bandaged.

This occurrence put an end to the "skylarking," further head-breaking
being strictly prohibited. In due time the Portuguese paid the penalty
of his rashness at the gangway; while once again the officers _shipped
their quarter-deck faces_.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE PITCH OF THE CAPE.

Ere the calm had yet left us, a sail had been discerned from the
fore-top-mast-head, at a great distance, probably three leagues or
more. At first it was a mere speck, altogether out of sight from the
deck. By the force of attraction, or something else equally
inscrutable, two ships in a calm, and equally affected by the currents,
will always approximate, more or less. Though there was not a breath of
wind, it was not a great while before the strange sail was descried
from our bulwarks; gradually, it drew still nearer.

What was she, and whence? There is no object which so excites interest
and conjecture, and, at the same time, baffles both, as a sail, seen as
a mere speck on these remote seas off Cape Horn. A breeze! a breeze!
for lo! the stranger is now perceptibly nearing the frigate; the
officer's spy-glass pronounces her a full-rigged ship, with all sail
set, and coming right down to us, though in our own vicinity the calm
still reigns.

She is bringing the wind with her. Hurrah! Ay, there it is! Behold how
mincingly it creeps over the sea, just ruffling and crisping it.

Our top-men were at once sent aloft to loose the sails, and presently
they faintly began to distend. As yet we hardly had steerage-way.
Toward sunset the stranger bore down before the wind, a complete
pyramid of canvas. Never before, I venture to say, was Cape Horn so
audaciously insulted. Stun'-sails alow and aloft; royals, moon-sails,
and everything else. She glided under our s