26 TEE CRUISE OF TEE "CACEALOT:' 



leisurely way were making fair progress across the 

 Atlantic, having had nothing, so far, but steady breezes 

 and fine weather. As it was late autumn — the first 

 week in October — I rather wondered at this, for even in 

 my brief experience I had learned to dread a "fall" 

 voyage across the " Western Ocean." 



Gradually the face of the sky changed, and the feel of 

 the air, from balmy and genial, became raw and cheer- 

 less. The little wave tops broke short off and blew back- 

 wards, apparently against the wind, while the old vessel 

 had an uneasy, unnatural motion, caused by a long, new 

 swell rolling athwart the existing set of the sea. Then 

 the wind became fitful and changeable, backing half 

 round the compass, and veering forward again as much 

 in an hour, until at last in one tremendous squall it 

 settled in the N.W. for a business-like blow. Unlike the 

 hurried merchantman who must needs "hang on "till 

 the last minute, only shortening the sail when absolutely 

 compelled to do so, and at the first sign of the gales 

 relenting, piling it on again, we were all snug long before 

 the storm burst upon us, and now rode comfortably 

 under the tiniest of storm staysails. 



We were evidently in for a fair specimen of Western 

 Ocean weather, but the clumsy-looking, old-fashioned 

 Cachalot made no more fuss over it than one of the 

 long-winged sea-birds that floated around, intent only 

 upon snapping up any stray scraps that might escape 

 from us. Higher rose the wind, heavier rolled the sea, 

 yet never a drop of water did we ship, nor did any- 

 thing about the deck betoken what a heavy gale was 

 blowing. During the worst of the weather, and just 

 after the wind had shifted back into the N.E., making 

 an uglier cross sea than ever get up, along comes an 



