hour passed
without any improvement in the weather. Every instant we expected
something worse to befall us. To remain below was out of the question,
as at any moment we might be wanted. To keep the deck was scarcely
possible, without the risk of being frozen to death or carried
overboard. Matters were bad enough in the daytime, but when darkness
came on and we went plunging away amid showers of snow and sleet and
bitter frost, with the cold north-west wind howling after us, I thought
of what the friends of some of our delicately-nurtured young gentlemen
would say if they could see us, and, for my own part, often wished
myself by the quiet fireside of the humblest cottage in old England. We
did our best to look after little Harry Sumner, and got him stowed away
carefully in his hammock, where we told him to lie still till he was
wanted. There was no object in allowing him to remain on deck, where he
could not be of use and was very likely to get injured.
"I'll do as you tell me, Mr Hurry," said he. "But I'm not afraid of
the sea or the wind--if it were not for the bitter, bitter cold I would
rather be on deck, I would indeed."
"You're a brave little fellow, Harry, but we must take care of you for
some nobler work, and then I've no doubt you'll give a good account of
yourself," said I. "So now go to sleep and try and get warm."
Of my own immediate follower and protege, Tom Rockets, I have said
nothing since we came to sea. By the courage and activity he displayed
on the present occasion he showed that he was made of the right stuff to
form a first-rate seaman, and I had no reason to be ashamed of him.
The whole of that long, weary night did we run on, the gale rather
increasing than falling, and when daylight broke over the waste of
tumultuous waters the prospect seemed as unpromising as ever. Nothing
could be done to get in any of our tattered canvas. The ship remained
tight, and that was our chief comfort. At length, on the evening of the
11th, the wind began to drop a little. Everyone was on deck ready to
take advantage of any opportunity which might occur for getting the ship
into a better condition. Suddenly the wind shifted round to the
north-east and dropped considerably. The hands were called aft. A
fore-staysail was set on the mizen-mast--the helm was put down and the
ship brought-to under it. The most necessary part of the rigging being
also replaced, the ship's company was divided into
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