At dawn the rushing hills of water
were travelling like lightning. It was just as though some mighty power
had set an Alpine district moving, and when a vessel soared over the
crown of a grey mountain she looked like a mere seabird. In the valleys
of this mad, winding mountain range the whistling hurricane raved and
whirled, and the drift that was plucked looked like smoke from some
hellish cauldron. And still the grizzled old skipper would go on, though
it was touch-and-go every time a sequence of strong seas came howling
down. The foresail went, and that was bad; but those fine seamen do not
ever come to the end of their resources so long as life lasts, and they
got ready to set another as soon as the wind showed the least sign of
fining off. The Esperanza tore onward, lunging violently, and shaking as
though she dreaded the grip of some savage pursuer. No wonder the seamen
speak of a vessel as if she had intelligence; there is something so
strangely vivid in the expression of a ship that it cannot be expressed
in words, and I shall not try.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212