This ship is so weatherly
and drags ahead so fast, that we shall see _terra firma_ before
any one has a notion of it. The old man fancies, because the coast of
Fuego trends to the north-west, that the land will fall away from us,
as fast as we draw towards it. I hope he may live long enough to
persuade all hands that he is right!"
Marble and I were conversing on the forecastle at the time, our eyes
turned to the westward, for it was scarcely possible for him to look
in any other direction, when he interrupted himself, by shouting
out--"hard up with the helm--spring to the after-braces, my lads--man
mizen-staysail downhaul!" This set everybody in motion, and the
captain and third-mate were on deck in a minute. The ship fell off, as
soon as we got the mizen-staysail in, and the main-topsail
touching. Gathering way fast, as she got the wind more aft, her helm
threw her stern up, and away she went like a top. The fore-topmast
staysail-sheet was tended with care, and yet the cloth emitted a sound
like the report of a swivel, when the sail first filled on the other
tack. We got the starboard fore-tack forward, and the larboard sheet
aft, by two tremendously severe drags, the blocks and bolts seeming
fairly to quiver, as they felt the strains. Everything succeeded,
however, and the Crisis began to drag off from the coast of Terra del
Fuego, of a certainty; but to go whither, no one could precisely
tell.
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