red, I felt more nervous
distrust than I had ever felt before at sea since first I began to
experience the many vicissitudes of a sailor's life.

We had reached the northern verge of the tropics in a very short time,
owing to the favourable cant in the usual direction of the north-east
trades before noted, and had been met with north-westerly winds and
thick, dirty weather, which was somewhat unusual in so low a latitude.
Our look-outs redoubled their vigilance, one being posted on each bow
always at night, and relieved every hour, as we were so well manned. We
were now on the port tack, of course, heading about north-east-by-north,
and right in the track of outward-hound vessels from both the United
Kingdom and the States. One morning, about three a.m.--that fateful
time in the middle watch when more collisions occur than at any
other--suddenly out of the darkness a huge ship seemed to leap right at
us. She must have come up in a squall, of which there were many about,
at the rate of some twelve knots an hour, having a fair wind, and every
rag of sail set. Not a gleam of light was visible anywhere on board of
her, and, to judge from all appearances, the only man awake on board was
the helmsman.

We, being "on the wind, close-hauled," were bound by the "rule of the
road at sea" to keep our course when meeting a ship running free. The
penalty for doing ANYTHING under such circumstances is a severe one.
First of all, you do not KNOW that the other ship's crew are asleep or
negligent, even though they carry no lights; for, by a truly infernal
parsimony, many vessels actually do not carry oil enough to keep their
lamps burning all the voyage, and must therefore economize in this
unspeakably dangerous fashion. And it may be that just as you alter your
course, daring no longer to hold on, and, as you have every reason to
believe, be run down, the other man alters his. Then a few breathless
moments ensue, an awful crash, and the two vessels tear each other to
pieces, spilling the life that they contain over the hungry sea. Even if
you escape, YOU are to blame for not keeping your course, unless it can
be proved that you were not seen by the running ship.

Well, we kept our course until, I verily believe, another plunge would
have cut us sheer in two halves. At the last moment our helm was put
hard down, bringing our vessel right up into the wind at the same
moment as the helmsman on board the other vessel caught sight of us,