AssoonasIhadtheCurlewswungrounduponhercourseagainInoticedsomethingpeculiar:wewerenotgoingasfastaswehadbeen.Ourfavorablewindhadalmostentirelydisappeared. This,atfirst,wedidnotworryabout,thinkingthatatanymomentitmightspringupagain. Butthewholedaywentby;thentwodays;thenaweek,—tendays,andthewindgrewnostronger. TheCurlewjustdawdledalongatthespeedofatoddlingbabe. InowsawthattheDoctorwasbecominguneasy. Hekeptgettingouthissextant(aninstrumentwhichtellsyouwhatpartoftheoceanyouarein)andmakingcalculations. Hewasforeverlookingathismapsandmeasuringdistancesonthem. Thefaredgeofthesea,allaroundus,heexaminedwithhistelescopeahundredtimesaday. "ButDoctor,"IsaidwhenIfoundhimoneafternoonmumblingtohimselfaboutthemistyappearanceofthesky,"itwouldn'tmattersomuchwouldit,ifwedidtakealittlelongeroverthetrip? We'vegotplentytoeatonboardnow;andthePurpleBird-of-Paradisewillknowthatwehavebeendelayedbysomethingthatwecouldn'thelp." "Yes,Isupposeso,"hesaidthoughtfully."ButIhatetokeepherwaiting. AtthisseasonoftheyearshegenerallygoestothePeruvianmountains—forherhealth. Andbesides,thegoodweathersheprophesiedislikelytoendanydaynowanddelayusstillfurther. Ifwecouldonlykeepmovingatevenafairspeed,Iwouldn'tmind. It'sthishangingaround,almostdeadstill,thatgetsmerestless—Ah,herecomesawind—Notverystrong—butmaybeit'llgrow." AgentlebreezefromtheNortheastcamesingingthroughtheropes;andwesmileduphopefullyattheCurlew'sleaningmasts. "We'veonlygotanotherhundredandfiftymilestomake,tosightthecoastofBrazil,"saidtheDoctor."Ifthatwindwouldjuststaywithus,steady,forafulldaywe'dseeland." Butsuddenlythewindchanged,swungtotheEast,thenbacktotheNortheast—thentotheNorth. Itcameinfitfulgusts,asthoughithadn'tmadeupitsmindwhichwaytoblow;andIwaskeptbusyatthewheel,swingingtheCurlewthiswayandthattokeeptherightsideofit. PresentlyweheardPolynesia,whowasintheriggingkeepingalook-outforlandorpassingships,screechdowntous, "Badweathercoming.Thatjumpywindisanuglysign.Andlook! —overthereintheEast—seethatblackline,lowdown? Ifthatisn'tastormI'maland-lubber. Thegalesroundherearefierce,whentheydoblow—tearyourcanvasoutlikepaper. Youtakethewheel,Doctor:it'llneedastrongarmifit'sarealstorm.I'llgowakeBumpoandChee-Chee.Thislooksbadtome. We'dbestgetallthesaildownrightaway,tillweseehowstrongshe'sgoingtoblow." Indeedthewholeskywasnowbeginningtotakeonaverythreateninglook. Theblacklinetotheeastwardgrewblackerasitcamenearerandnearer. Alow,rumbly,whisperingnoisewentmoaningoverthesea. Thewaterwhichhadbeensoblueandsmilingturnedtoaruffleduglygray. Andacrossthedarkeningsky,shredsofcloudsweptliketatteredwitchesflyingfromthestorm. ImustconfessIwasfrightened.YouseeIhadonlysofarseentheseainfriendlymoods:sometimesquietandlazy;sometimeslaughing,venturesomeandreckless;sometimesbroodingandpoetic,whenmoonbeamsturnedherripplesintosilverthreadsanddreamingsnowynight-cloudspiledupfairy-castlesinthesky. ButasyetIhadnotknown,orevenguessedat,theterriblestrengthoftheSea'swildanger. Whenthatstormfinallystruckusweleanedrightoverflatlyonourside,asthoughsomein-visiblegianthadslappedthepoorCurlewonthecheek. Afterthatthingshappenedsothickandsofastthatwhatwiththewindthatstoppedyourbreath,thedriving,blindingwater,thedeafeningnoiseandtherest,Ihaven'taveryclearideaofhowourshipwreckcameabout. Irememberseeingthesails,whichwewerenowtryingtorollupuponthedeck,tornoutofourhandsbythewindandgooverboardlikeapennyballoon—verynearlycarryingChee-Cheewiththem. AndIhaveadimrecollectionofPolynesiascreechingsomewhereforoneofustogodownstairsandclosetheport-holes. Inspiteofourmastsbeingbareofsailwewerenowscuddingalongtothesouthwardatagreatpace. Buteveryonceinawhilehugegray-blackwaveswouldarisefromundertheship'ssidelikenightmaremonsters,swellandclimb,thencrashdownuponus,pressingusintothesea;andthepoorCurlewwouldcometoastandstill,halfunderwater,likeagasping,drowningpig. WhileIwasclamberingalongtowardsthewheeltoseetheDoctor,clinginglikealeechwithhandsandlegstotherailslestIbeblownoverboard,oneofthesetremendousseastoreloosemyhold,filledmythroatwithwaterandsweptmelikeacorkthefulllengthofthedeck. Myheadstruckadoorwithanawfulbang.AndthenIfainted.