ent little streams of water trickling down through
openings as yet unprotected.

At evening quarters it was all we could do to stand upright. A number of
men left their stations suddenly without permission, and seemed to take
great interest in the sea just over the rail.

As the sun sank, the wind rose, and with it came rain--rain in
sheets--the "wettest" kind of rain.

When the port watch was relieved at eight o'clock, even the veriest
landsman among us could tell that the situation was becoming serious. We
turned in at once, determining to get all the sleep possible in that
pandemonium of sound.

The value of hammocks in a heavy sea was proved beyond all peradventure,
for once we got into them and closed our eyes, we hardly realized that
the ship was almost on her beam ends much of the time.

From time to time we were wakened by the crash of a mess chest, as it
broke from its lashings and careened around the deck. The mess pans and
pots banged and thumped. At intervals the lurching of the vessel caused
a mess table with the accompanying benches to slide to the deck with a
crash.

At twelve, we of the port watch were wakened from our much-interrupted
rest and ordered on deck for muster.

As we slid from our hammocks we realized for the first time the fury of
the storm. It was impossible to stand upright.

The old hooker rolled so, that it was impossible to keep from sliding
even when one lay prone on the deck. The men on lookout had all they
could do to hang on. One moment the end of the bridge would rise high in
air and the next almost bury itself in the seething waters.

The wind roared, the lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled.

The dense fog hung like a curtain round the ship, so the whistle was
blown incessantly.

The boatswain's mate ordered me to go forward and stand an hour's watch
on the bridge. I obeyed, creeping on all fours most of the time, till I
reached the opening between the deck houses. I escaped, by a hair's
breadth, a sea which came over the side like a solid green wall.

The man on the port end of the bridge whom I relieved, shouted in my
ear--he could not be heard otherwise--"You want to get a good hold or
you'll be fired overboard in a jiffy." Then he left me.

It was the kind of a night one felt the need of companionship. I spent a
lonely hour on the bridge, eyes and ears strained for signs of other
vessels, face and hands stung by the pelting rain. Underlying all other
thou