Tent Life in Siberia | Page 8

tranquillity which approaches heroism,
but he is observed at irregular intervals to go suddenly and
unexpectedly on deck, and to return every time with a more ghastly and
rueful countenance. When asked the object of these periodical visits to
the quarter-deck, he replies, with a transparent affectation of
cheerfulness, that he only goes up "to look at the compass and see how
she's heading." I am surprised to find that looking at the compass is
attended with such painful and melancholy emotions as those expressed
in Mahood's face when he comes back; but he performs the
self-imposed duty with unshrinking faithfulness, and relieves us of a

great deal of anxiety about the safety of the ship. The captain seems a
little negligent, and sometimes does not observe the compass once a
day; but Mahood watches it with unsleeping vigilance.
BRIG "OLGA," 800 MILES N.W. OF SAN FRANCISCO. _Sunday,
July 16, 1865_.
The monotony of our lives was relieved night before last, and our
seasickness aggravated, by a severe gale of wind from the north-west,
which compelled us to lie to for twenty hours under one close-reefed
maintopsail. The storm began late in the afternoon, and by nine o'clock
the wind was at its height and the sea rapidly rising. The waves
pounded like Titanic sledgehammers against the vessel's quivering
timbers; the gale roared a deep diapason through the cordage; and the
regular thud, thud, thud of the pumps, and the long melancholy
whistling of the wind through the blocks, filled our minds with dismal
forebodings, and banished all inclination for sleep.
Morning dawned gloomily and reluctantly, and its first grey light,
struggling through the film of water on the small rectangular deck
lights, revealed a comical scene of confusion and disorder. The ship
was rolling and labouring heavily, and Mahood's trunk, having in some
way broken from its moorings, was sliding back and forth across the
cabin floor. Bush's big meerschaum, in company with a corpulent
sponge, had taken up temporary quarters in the crown of my best hat,
and the Major's box of cigars revolved periodically from corner to
corner in the close embrace of a dirty shirt. Sliding and rolling over the
carpet in every direction were books, papers, cigars, brushes, dirty
collars, stockings, empty wine-bottles, slippers, coats, and old boots;
and a large box of telegraph material threatened momentarily to break
from its fastenings and demolish everything. The Major, who was the
first to show any signs of animation, rose on one elbow in bed, gazed
fixedly at the sliding and revolving articles, and shaking his head
reflectively, said: "It is a c-u-r-ious thing! It is a _c-u-r-_ious thing!" as
if the migratory boots and cigar-boxes exhibited some new and
perplexing phenomena not to be accounted for by any of the known
laws of physics. A sudden roll in which the vessel indulged at that

particular moment gave additional force to the sentiment of the
soliloquy; and with renewed convictions, I have no doubt, of the
original and innate depravity of matter generally, and of the Pacific
Ocean especially, he laid his head back upon the pillow.
It required no inconsiderable degree of resolution to "turn out" under
such unpromising circumstances; but Bush, after two or three groans
and a yawn, made the attempt to get up and dress. Climbing hurriedly
down when the ship rolled to windward, he caught his boots in one
hand and trousers in the other, and began hopping about the cabin with
surprising agility, dodging or jumping over the sliding trunk and rolling
bottles, and making frantic efforts, apparently, to put both legs
simultaneously into one boot. Surprised in the midst of this arduous
task by an unexpected lurch, he made an impetuous charge upon an
inoffensive washstand, stepped on an erratic bottle, fell on his head,
and finally brought up a total wreck in the corner of the room.
Convulsed with laughter, the Major could only ejaculate
disconnectedly, "I tell you--it is a--curious thing how she--rolls!"
"Yes," rejoined Bush savagely, as he rubbed one knee, "I should think
it was! Just get up and try it!" But the Major was entirely satisfied to
see Bush try it, and did nothing but laugh at his misfortunes. The latter
finally succeeded in getting dressed, and after some hesitation I
concluded to follow his example. By dint of falling twice over the trunk,
kneeling upon my heels, sitting on my elbows, and executing several
other equally impracticable feats, I got my vest on inside out, both feet
in the wrong boots respectively, and staggered up the companionway
on deck. The wind was still blowing a gale, and we showed no canvas
but one close-reefed maintopsail. Great massive mounds of blue water
piled themselves up in the concealment of the low-hanging rain-clouds,
rushed out upon us with