IN THE GRIP OF MIGHTY SEAS

The captain quickly furled the jibs, then took a reef in the mainsail.  Consulting the skies again, he decided to leave one of the jibs up, so set it once more and took another reef in the mainsail, thus shortening the latter considerably.

The “Sister Sue” was now making no headway at all, but was rolling dizzily from wave to wave, now and then a swell striking the side of the little boat and tumbling torrents of green water over into the cockpit.  The girls were set to work bailing.  They already were soaked to the skin, though, instead of being disturbed, they were laughing joyously, thinking it great fun.  Their attention was called to a school of porpoises that came leaping toward them, appearing at first like miniature geysers springing out of the oily green seas.  The porpoises divided, passing on either side of the sloop and close aboard, racing on toward the land that lay off yonder somewhere in the green distance.

It was now impossible to stand without holding fast to something that would not give.  Harriet had never seen a boat roll so fast.  From side to side it lurched, plunging at the same time, both with almost incredible speed.  Her own head was beginning to spin.  Tommy’s face was pale.

“You’re getting seasick,” smiled Harriet, eyeing her friend sharply.

“No, I’m not,” protested the little girl “You’re getting thick yourthelf.”

“I confess to being dizzy,” admitted Harriet, “but I am not so ill that I must go to bed.  Keep outside.  You will be much better off than in the cabin, where the air is close and the others are suffering.”

“I’m going to, thank you.”  Tommy stood braced against the cabin, her keen little eyes observing the now serious face of the skipper.  “I gueth thomething ith going to happen,” she observed.

“Don’t tell the others,” cautioned Harriet, with a warning shake of the head.

“I don’t intend to.  What ith it, a thtorm?”

Harriet nodded.

“I knew it.  I jutht knew thomething wath going to break loothe.”

The purple haze was nearing at a rapid rate of speed, and Harriet Burrell saw that with it the sea was piling up, its white crests angry and menacing.

“Try to keep the wind dead astern,” ordered the skipper.  “I will handle the sheets.  Do you think you can manage it?”

“Yes, sir.  I will be on the lookout for orders.  You may depend upon me, sir.”

“Then we’ll weather it, but we shall get pretty wet, and night is coming on, too.  We’re going to have a merry night of it!  All hands who do not wish to get a ducking go below,” shouted the skipper.

Miss Elting, Jane, Harriet and Tommy remained outside.  The captain tossed a rope to each, directing them to tie the ropes about their waists, making the lines fast to a cleat on the after end of the raised deck cabin.

“Just for safety’s sake,” he nodded.