--not too close. And Maurice, go
below--you and Dave and all hands of you, and we'll get out dry
clothes for you. Man, but you must be cold and hungry, but the cook's
getting coffee and grub ready. And for the Duncan's crew--on deck all
hands and put the tops'ls to her. For, Maurice-boy, we're going
home--going home, Maurice--where there's people waiting for you. Hang
on a while longer, Joe, and I'll take her myself."

No need to tell me to hang on. If I hadn't hung on or been lashed to
the wheel I could never have kept my feet, for at this time it was so
bad that they had passed a line from my waist to the windward bitt and
I was up to my waist with every dive of her.

"Lord, she's a dog, ain't she! If old man Duncan could see her now!
Remember Tom O'Donnell singing that song the other night:

'West half-no'the and drive her--we're abreast now of Cape
Sable--
'Tis an everlasting hurricane, but here's the craft that's
able.'

We're not abreast of Cape Sable yet, but it won't take us too many
hours at this clip. And here's the craft that's able. Man, wouldn't it
be fine if Tom O'Donnell himself was with us and the pair of us racing
home? Let me take the wheel, Joe. And go for'ard and have a mug-up for
yourself--and have a care going, Joe, for it's leaping she is now and
seas that'd lift you a cable's length to looard if ever they caught
you fair. That's it--oh, but if your mother could see you now, Joe,
it's never to sea you'd come again."

I made my way for'ard. A dash between the house and windward rail, a
shoot for the mainmast and holding on there for awhile. Another dive
for the gripes on the dories, another shoot between rail and dories, a
grip of the bow gripes, a swing around and I was at the forec's'le
hatch. Here I thought I heard him call and looked aft.

He had a leg either side of the wheel, standing full height and sawing
the spokes a bit up and down to get the feel of her. The life line was
trailing from his waist to the bitt--the clear white sea was up to his
middle and racing over the taffrail. He had cast away his mitts the
better to grip the spokes, and even as I looked he took off his
sou'wester and sent it scaling. The wind taking hold of it must have
carried it a quarter a mile to leeward. Watching it go, himself
looking out under the boom, he laughed--laughed--such a roar of a
laugh--stamped his feet and began to sing:

"Oh, I love old Ocean's smile,
I l