out, ‘Man overboard! Breakers ahead! Stop thief!’ My mates came a-tumbling up the hatches, and the skipper, who was having a snooze in his private cabin, rushed out in his pie-jammas. No sooner had he clapped his eyes on the elements than he sings out, ‘ All hands shorten sail immediate!’ I give you my word, Master Charles, the hurricane was upon us before he’d done a-speaking, and the wind did the business, the forestay being blown to ribbons, and the main, main- top, and main to’gallant sails clean out of the bolt ropes, while the Jolly Dogs heeled over, until her scuppers were buried in the water. The ocean was just great mountains of foam, each one ready to topple over on us. And the noise! Well, there! A thousand mad bulls a-bellowing and another thousand ravening lions a-roaring, would give you but a poor idea of it. Add to this the jabber-jabber of the frightened monkeys and screams of the eagles and condors, ‘twas like Bedlam broke loose.
“Then the ship’s head was yawing about, and—come to look—the mariner who was a-steering had been washed overboard. Me and the captain made a rush for the wheel, and, as we did so, the whole Pacific seemingly rose up forrud like a tremendous precipice, and came thundering down on the fo’c’sle. We threw ourselves down, and held on for our lives, and in another minute I thought I was drownded sure-ly, for I was a-wallowing in the ocean. But no, when I managed to fetch my wind, there was the skipper sitting up a-gasping and a-staring with all his eyes, as well he might.”
“Why, Ben, what was it?”
“Well, Master Charles, that big sea had just made a clean sweep of the deck, including fifteen able-bodied mariners, the cook, and the cabin-boy, every mother’s son of them, and me and the captain had it all to ourselves aboard that ill-fated vessel.”
“Oh, Ben, how dreadful!”
“Right you are, Master Charles. Howsomever, we picked ourselves up, lashed ourselves to the wheel, and got her head round so as to run before the wind and avoid the breaking seas. We'd scarcely got fixed before it grew terrible dark, only every now and then the lightning made things as plain as day. Suddenly I sings out, ‘Waterspouts ahead!’
“‘How many of ’em?’ says the captain.
“‘Three,’ says I.
“‘Shiver my timbers!’ says he, all of a tremble, ‘I don’t want
