wedge, opposing its widest end to the combined fury of the sea and wind.

At length the first fury of the gale began to abate, and we at once
fell to pounding our hands, as a preliminary operation to going to
work; for a gang of men had now ascended to help secure what was left
of the sail; we somehow packed it away, at last, and came down.

About noon the next day, the gale so moderated that we shook two reefs
out of the top-sails, set new courses, and stood due east, with the
wind astern.

Thus, all the fine weather we encountered after first weighing anchor
on the pleasant Spanish coast, was but the prelude to this one terrific
night; more especially, that treacherous calm immediately preceding it.
But how could we reach our long-promised homes without encountering
Cape Horn? by what possibility avoid it? And though some ships have
weathered it without these perils, yet by far the greater part must
encounter them. Lucky it is that it comes about midway in the
homeward-bound passage, so that the sailors have time to prepare for
it, and time to recover from it after it is astern.

But, sailor or landsman, there is some sort of a Cape Horn for all.
Boys! beware of it; prepare for it in time. Gray-beards! thank God it
is passed. And ye lucky livers, to whom, by some rare fatality, your
Cape Horns are placid as Lake Lemans, flatter not yourselves that good
luck is judgment and discretion; for all the yolk in your eggs, you
might have foundered and gone down, had the Spirit of the Cape said the
word.

CHAPTER XXVII.

SOME THOUGHTS GROWING OUT OF MAD JACK'S COUNTERMANDING HIS SUPERIOR'S
ORDER.

In time of peril, like the needle to the loadstone, obedience,
irrespective of rank, generally flies to him who is best fitted to
command. The truth of this seemed evinced in the case of Mad Jack,
during the gale, and especially at that perilous moment when he
countermanded the Captain's order at the helm. But every seaman knew,
at the time, that the Captain's order was an unwise one in the extreme;
perhaps worse than unwise.

These two orders given, by the Captain and his Lieutenant, exactly
contrasted their characters. By putting the helm _hard up_, the Captain
was for _scudding_; that is, for flying away from the gale. Whereas,
Mad Jack was for running the ship into its teeth. It is needless to say
that, in almost all cases of similar hard squalls and gales, the latter
step, though attended with more appalling ap