showing against
the graceful, green palm trees. On our left, a grove of cocoanut palms
flourished, and beneath grazed a herd of cattle.

Soon the ship began to back out, and then, as the bay grew wider, she
turned slowly and headed for the open.

"Lash your mess chests," said messenger "Kid" to the berth deck cooks.
"Orders from the officer of the deck," he added.

He turned to us, who were standing by the open port. "I guess we'll have
a lively time of it, for I heard 'Cutlets' say the barometer is dropping
at a terrible rate."

The "Kid" scurried further aft to give the order to the boatswain's
mates and master-at-arms.

We looked out to seaward and noted the black sky and the rising wind.

"I guess you 'heroes' will have a chance to show what right you have to
be called seamen," said "Stump," mimicking "Cutlets."

CHAPTER XIV.

WE ENGAGE IN A SEA FIGHT.

"Watch on deck, put on your oilers," shouted the boatswain's mates.

The order came none too soon, for as the last man ran up the
companion-way ladder, the rain began to drop in sheets.

The rising wind drove the rain in our faces with stinging force, and we
were soon wet as drowned rats.

The white-capped seas raced alongside, and the "Yankee" heaved and
tossed like a bucking bronco. The lookouts at the masthead swayed
forward and back, to and fro, dizzily, and the officer of the deck on
the bridge had difficulty in keeping his feet. The pots and pans in the
galley banged noisily, and ever and anon the screw was lifted out of the
water, and for a few turns shook the ship from stern to stem with its
accelerated speed.

A number of men who had partaken too freely of tropical fruits manned
the rail and seemed too much interested in the seething water below to
notice the rain that was dripping down their necks.

For a time, things were very lively aboard the old hooker, and, though
in the main unpleasant, the grandeur of the sea in the tempest made up
for all discomforts. The flash of the lightning, the roar of the
thunder, the hum and whistle of the wind through the rigging, and the
swish of the seas as they dashed themselves to spray against the sides
of the ship--all this made an impressive chorus, more stirring even than
the roar of cannon and the shriek of shell.

When "hammocks" was blown by the ship's bugler at a quarter to seven, we
found it difficult to make our way forward to the nettings. One moment
we were toiling up the deck's steep in