370 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
from out the Irish Sea, struck us. We were go- 
ing nearly with it, and the good ship pitched and 
reared like an angry horse, but did not roll much. 
Pitching is harder to bear than rolling, and the 
decks were quickly vacated. 
I turned into my stateroom soon after ten 
o’clock, and then happened a thing which will 
hold a place in my memory so long as I have 
one. I did not feel sleepy, but I was nervous, 
restless, and half sick. I lay on my lounge for 
perhaps half an hour, and then felt impelled to 
go on deck. I wrapped myself in a great water- 
proof ulster, pulled my storm cap over my ears, 
and climbed the companionway. Two or three 
electric bulbs in sheltered places on deck only 
served to make the darkness more intense. I 
crawled forward of the ladies’ cabin, and, sup- 
porting myself against the donkey-engine, peered 
at the light above the crow’s-nest and tried to 
think that I could see the man on watch in the 
nest. I did see him for an instant, when the 
next flash of lightning came, and also two officers 
on the bridge; and I knew that Captain Bahrens 
was in the chart house. When the next flash 
came, I saw the other lookout man making his 
short turns on the narrow space of bow deck, 
and was tempted to join him; why, I do not 
know. Icrept past the donkey-engine, holding 
fast to it as I went, until I reached the iron gate 
that closes the narrow passage to the bow deck. 
With two silver dollars in my teeth I staggered 
F ees = “8 * as 
Pm Me en er ee en 
ee em Bina ene 
