t into a hard
place than to get out of it? That was what I found then, being driven
about first this way, then that. I was slammed against a great, roaring
billow that sent me off presently in another direction, merely to be met
by another wave that dashed me against a third one.

My instincts, that serve me for mind and brains, taught me that if I
wanted to get down to quiet, restful depths, I must dive head foremost
directly toward the bottom of the sea.

Oh, what folly to try! No sooner would I get my great head and long nose
pointed for a swift downward plunge, than a thundering billow would
actually toss me into the air, just as I have seen a spurt of spray toss
a cockle-shell.

Oh, but I saw strange sights and heard strange sounds that night! Once
when two waves came together I was not only tossed high in air, but for
several moments I actually rode atop of the rolling foam.

It was then that I had my first view of "Folks." What wonderful beings!
My first thought was, could it be some new, amazing kind of fish that
could stand upright? You see, I had up to that time only known creatures
that lay flat, that flapped fins in order to get along, or in order to
try what is called by the long word, lo-co-mo-tion.

But here were fine, tall objects that were in every way so different! I
indeed knew at once that they were far above and superior to the little
creatures that flew, to anything that crawled, and to any kind of fish
that swam the seas.

A great vessel was straining and tugging, and I could see lights here
and there that showed the water black as night. Sailors' voices rose
high above the surging of water and the tempest's loud cry. There were
queer little holes in the sides of the vessel that I know now are called
"port-holes," and big guns were pointed out through them.

A sailor with a rope about his waist tried to walk across the deck, but
was thrown along the wet and slippery boards like a ball tossed from the
hands of a child. In a queer set of outside garments that I have learned
are called "oil-skins," the crew, officers, and captain went to and fro,
trying their best to keep things straight.

In some way I knew that the brave captain was not afraid. A little pale
he was, surely, but his voice was firm as he called through a strange
fixture called the ship's trumpet. And his hands did not shake as he
tried to peer through a great glass across the rolling sea.

The sailor with the rope about him