ies dangling
from gallows in a gale of wind.

All in a moment a sea of unusual weight and fury took the ship and
hove her down to the height as you would have thought, of her
topgallant rail; the headlong movement sent me sliding to leeward; the
forethatch of my sou'wester struck the spirit-lamp; down it poured, in
a line of fire upon the deck, where it surged to and fro in a sheet of
flame, with the movements of the ship. I was so horribly frightened as
to be almost paralysed by the sight of that flickering stretch of
yellowish light, sparkling and leaping as it swept under the lower
bunks and came racing back again to the bulkhead with the windward
incline. I fell to stamping upon it in my sea-boots, little fool that
I was, hoping in that way to extinguish it. A purple-faced midshipman
occupied one of the lower bunks, and his long nose lay over the edge
of it. He opened his eyes, and after looking sleepily for a moment or
two at the coating of pale fire rushing from under his bed, he snuffed
a bit, and muttering, "Doocid nice smell; burnt brandy, ain't it?" he
turned over and went to sleep again with his face the other way.

I was in an agony of consternation, and yet afraid of calling for help
lest I should be very roughly manhandled for my carelessness. There
was a deal of "raffle" under the bunks--sea-boots, little bundles of
clothing, and I know not what else; but thanks to Cape Horn everything
was happily as damp as water itself. There was therefore nothing to
kindle, nor was there any aperture through which the burning spirit
could run below into the hold; so by degrees the flaming stuff
consumed itself, and in about ten minutes' time the planks were black
again. I went on deck and reported what had happened to the second
mate. All he said was "My God!" and instantly ran below to satisfy
himself that there was no further danger. I can never recall that
little passage of my life without a shudder. There were a hundred and
ninety-five souls of us aboard, and had I managed to set the ship on
fire that night the doom of every living creature would have been
assured, seeing that no boat could have lived an instant in such a sea
as was then running.

In a very different climate from that of Cape Horn I came very near to
meeting with an extremely ugly end. It was a little business entirely
out of the routine of the ordinary ocean dangers, but the memory of it
sends a thrill through me to this hour, though it is much