THE ROARING FORTIES 109 



Foot" Louis, his arm around the waist of a 

 buxom negress, and on his feet nothing but a 

 pair of red socks. We wondered what had be- 

 come of his shoes and spied them on the piano, 

 which the " professor " was vigorously strum- 

 ming. Louis seemed to be having more fun than 

 anybody, and was perfectly oblivious to the tit- 

 ters of the crowd and to the fact that it was not 

 de rigueur on the Barbary Coast to dance in 

 one's socks. 



We left the Hawaiian Islands late in March 

 and, standing straight north, soon left the tropics 

 behind, never to see them again on the voyage. 

 As we plunged into the " roaring forties " we 

 struck pur first violent storm. The fury of the 

 gale compelled us to heave to under staysails and 

 drift, lying in the troughs of the seas and riding 

 the waves sidewise. The storm was to me a reve- 

 lation of what an ocean gale could be. Old sail- 

 ors declared they never had seen anything worse. 

 The wind shrieked and whistled in the rigging 

 like a banshee. It was impossible to hear ordi- 

 nary talk and the men had to yell into each 

 other's ears. We put out oil bags along the 



