Now, with us,
whenever the weather was doubtful or squally-looking, we
shortened sail, and kept it fast till better weather came along,
being quite careless whether we made one mile a day or one
hundred. But just because nobody took any notice of our progress
as the days passed, we were occasionally startled to find how far
we had really got. This was certainly the case with all of us
forward, even to me who had some experience, so well used had I
now become to the leisurely way of getting along. To the laziest
of ships, however, there comes occasionally a time when the
bustling, hurrying wind will take no denial, and you've got to
"git up an' git," as the Yanks put it. Such a time succeeded our
"batterfanging" about, after losing the trades. We got hold of a
westerly wind that, commencing quietly, gently, steadily, taking
two or three days before it gathered force and volume,
strengthened at last into a stern, settled gale that would brook
no denial, to face which would have been misery indeed. To
vessels bound east it came as a boon and blessing, for it would
be a crawler that could not reel off her two hundred and fifty
miles a day before the push of such a breeze. Even the CACHALOT
did her one hundred and fifty, pounding and bruising the ill-used
sea in her path, and spreading before her broad bows a far-
reaching area of snowy foam, while her wake was as wide as any
two ordinary ships ought to make.
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