Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 30: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

536 ration of plum-duff. We got raisins enough. Feed a crew an’ they forget their superstitions. An empty stomach brings up a lot of queer thoughts.” Micky nodded. He went below and made some entries in his log. He got out his sextant-box and climbed back to the deck. Bracing his feet, he started taking an observation. A slight haze lay over the northern horizon. He lowered the sextant and squinted his gray-thatched eyes. ‘Take a look at the barometer,” he told the mate. “That fog wasn’t there a bell ago.’ Red Landyard glided to the starboard steps leading alongside the wheel-house. He stared at the barometer on the wall of the after-house. | “Glass going down!” he called to the skipper. ‘‘ She was goin’ up an’ now she’s down to twenty-five, fifty.” “What?” screamed Micky. | “Twenty-nine, fifty!” corrected the mate. The little skipper leaped for the quarter- deck rail. He leaned over and shouted his own orders: “ Both watches on deck! Quick now! Take th’ sail off ’er! Clew up everything! “ Get forward!” he added to the mate. ‘‘ There’s a hurricane coming!” Red Landyard went forward. Micky slid for the wheel-house window. “ Put ’er down! All the way down! -You’ve got too much lee!” The wheelman twirled the spokes until the wheel-rope strained. Shuffling feet sounded on the Borneo’s planks. The watch on deck began taking the sail off of the ship, as Micky had ‘ordered. It was no small task. The balmy southern trade died to a calm. The ship’s bow swung toward the north. “Steady!” cried Micky. ‘“’Old ’er there, till we see wot’s coming!” Red Landyard, on the foredeck, saw the first menacing claw of the wind. A curdy line dragged across the placid sea. Back of the line was a darker commotion. The sun, almost at zenith, grew pale. A haze dropped from nowhere and blotted out the northern heavens. ' Shrieking like a thing that had gone Te the blow reached the Borneo. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. wild with pain, there fell upon the Borneo a monstrous deluge of wind and wave and foam. One second the ship was towering and stately. The next a hand seemed to reach, grasp her keel, and firmly press her over. Canvas, dangling a moment before from the yards, was whipped against the masts, rent, torn and carried to leeward. Rigging —rope ends, blocks and the cross-jack yard—came tumbling around Micky’s head. He sprang for the weather shrouds, hooked his right leg over a ratline, and held on for his life. There was no chance to shout orders. The ship staggered, righted sullenly,; and reeled with her sails being plucked from her like feathers from a white ' chicken. Fortunately, the crew had started de- scending to the deck before the worst of No man was lost. They climbed the weather raii, and, like Micky, grasped the stenchest of the standing-rigging. The maintopmast whipped, snapped the backstays like packthread, and fell to lee- ward. Yards snarled with cross-trees and crashed downward to the deck. A yellow- ish hue swirled about the stricken ship. The yellow changed to green and the green to an unearthly purple. - Wind roared, lifted the sea, scooped waves and hammered the staunch weather side of the Borneo. The bow ran off from the gale. Micky cupped his hands and shrieked: “ Belay that foretopmast staysail sheet! Hei, you forrard! D’ye ’ear me?” Red Landyard and two of the crew climbed over the wreckage on the forecastle deck and managed to sheet partly home the flapping staysail. Micky ducked a lipping comber and turned to the wheelman. ‘Another man aft!” he shouted above the roar of the hurricane. “‘ We've got to keep ’er in th’ wind!”’ This course of sailing, when the Borneo righted, became difficult enough. Red Landyard and the crew managed to set two headsails and spread a jury rig from the wreck of the foresail. They cleared the forecastle deck and threw some of the spars overside. Original fron 5 y, THE OHIO STATE UNA REC IOO =) CO