“old bust-proof” in trouble. 499 
“Old bust-proof” wus particularly unfortunate. Ilis 
master had given him a good oiling, stowed him away 
securely overhead, and then left him to sleep quietly 
through the passage. Alas for human forethought ! his 
double muzzle was elevated higher than the breech : 
water will run down hill, and the consequence may well 
be imagined; upon our arrival at San Francisco he was 
found half full, — irreparably ruined. AV'e looked at him 
and sighed : we feared he would lose all idght and title 
to his redoubtable name at the verv next discharge. Ills 
ultimate fate is shrouded in impenetrable mystery. 
I don’t think any of the mess will ever forget that 
long, v7Ct, dreary week. I feel it now in the sliape of a 
passing rheumatic pain. It was “fea^^//,” as Hartman 
expressed it, when we one morning ate our breakfast 
(luke-v/arm tea, cold bread, and fried pork) with high 
india-rubber boots on to keep our feet dry. At the end 
of the third day, just as the hurricane was about at its 
height, the captain started the idea of lying to and allow- 
ing it to “blow by.” lie entertained the very natural 
fear that we should run into the centre of the storm if 
we continued liefore it any longer, in which case we 
should certainly have foundered with the sea that was 
then running. lie and the first lieutenant differed, how- 
ever, as to the nature of the tempest, and it was fortu- 
nately determined to continue scudding. I say“fortu- , 
nately,” for, in the end, it proved to be the safest as well 
as most comfortable course, and we moreover continued 
logging our two hundred and fifty miles daily toward 
San Francisco, which was in itself a most important fea- 
ture, as the scurvy Avas hy that time making great inroads 
