The Wreck of the Nancy Bell | Page 9

was out, for he anticipated that the south-easterly breeze they now had would carry them well past the Spanish coast and into the north-east trades, when their voyage would be all plain sailing down to the Equator.
How true, however, is the old adage, "Man proposes and God disposes!"
While the captain was chatting gaily with his passengers, another change was taking place in the appearance of the heavens. The heavy, threatening clouds, which had risen up after breakfast and been swept away to leeward by the south-east wind as it got up, were now slowly being banked up along the horizon to the northward and westward, the haze extending down to the south right ahead of the vessel's track, while a lot of scud began to be seen flying aloft at a very considerable rate--not from but towards the point from which the breeze was blowing, a sign that betokened not merely another shift of the wind, but a squall, and one not to be trifled with either!
The obscuring of the sun by the drift was the first thing that called the captain's attention to the altered state of the weather, and he at once gave the order--"All hands shorten sail!" the mate rushing forwards to see the details properly carried out.
The order did not come an instant too soon.
All at once, in a moment, the wind, which had previously been blowing strongly from the south-east, died away and it was dead calm; while the sea--already rough enough with the short chopping waves of the morning-- began to run with those huge billows that seem to get up almost without preparation on the advent of a gale, every second growing more mountainous.
At the captain's word of command, re-echoed by Mr McCarthy, the crew had sprung aloft immediately; and, working with a will, had furled the topgallant-sails, taken in the flying-jib, hauled up the mainsail and mizzen-trysail and squared the after yards, when the ship resembled a gladiator, entering the arena of the prize-ring stripped for a fight, as she thus awaited the approach of the storm.
In the south-east the sky was clear and cloudless, but in the opposite direction dark heavy purple masses of vapour rolled over each other, more unnatural in appearance owing to a lighter cloud covering the curling, wreathing fluid as if with a veil. Shooting from this dark pile of clouds, some few were detached and became separated, rising to a higher region of the air, in which they were dissipated and blown out like mares'-tails that passed rapidly across the zenith; whilst on the water, and about a mile or so from the vessel, the sea appeared covered with a thick white mist, before which ran a dark line of black.
Mr Meldrum had sent the girls below the moment Captain Dinks had given his orders to shorten sail, in spite of their entreaties to be allowed to remain on deck with him and "see the storm;" so, being now alone, he stationed himself near the binnacle close to the captain.
As he stood watching the lull before the break of the squall, he felt a hand touching his shoulder; and looking round he found his fellow passenger, Mr Zachariah Lathrope, by his side.
"Jee-hosophat! mister," said the American; "I guess we're goin' to have a blizzard, and no mistake!"
"What's a blizzard?" said Mr Meldrum, smiling at the other's nasal intonation, which was more marked than usual, even for a citizen of the land of the setting sun.
"Why, darn my moccasins, deon't yew know what a blizzard is?"
Mr Meldrum shook his head in the negative: he felt that he should laugh outright in the other's face if he opened his mouth to speak, and he did not wish to appear wanting in politeness.
"Waal," said the American, drawing himself up, as if proud of his superior knowledge and ability in being able to enlighten a backward Britisher. "A blizzard's a hurricane and a tornader and a cyclone, all biled inter one all fired smash and let loose to sweep creation. We have 'em to rights out Minnesota way; and let me tell you, mister, when you've ten through the mill in one, you wouldn't kinder like to hev a share in another. Snakes and alligators! Why, a blizzard will shave you as clean as the best barber in Boston, and then friz the marrow in your bones an' blow you to Jericho. It's sarten death to be caught out on the prairie in one of 'em: your friends won't find your body till the snow melts in the spring. I guess you wouldn't like to try one, streenger!"
"No, I think not," said Mr Meldrum, shivering at the description, for he had heard before of these "Northers" of the Far West; but, the next moment, the thoughts of blizzards and all