two we were hard at work, making the booms well fast, unreeving the studding-sail and royal and skysail gear, getting rolling-ropes on the yard, setting up the weather breast-backstays, and making other preparations for a storm.  It was a fine night for a gale; just cool and bracing enough for quick work, without being cold, and as bright as day.  It was sport to have a gale in such weather as this.  Yet it blew like a hurricane.  The wind seemed to come with a spite, an edge to it, which threatened to scrape us off the yards.  The force of the wind was greater than I had ever felt it before; but darkness, cold, and wet are the worst parts of a storm, to a sailor.

Having got on deck again, we looked round to see what time of night it was, and whose watch.  In a few minutes the man at the wheel struck four bells, and we found that the other watch was out, and our own half out.  Accordingly, the starboard watch went below, and left the ship to us for a couple of hours, yet with orders to stand by for a call.

Hardly had they got below, before away went the fore topmast staysail, blown to ribands.  This was a small sail, which we could manage in the watch, so that we were not obliged to call up the other watch.  We laid out upon the bowsprit, where we were under water half the time, and took in the fragments of the sail, and, as she must have some head sail on her, prepared to bend another staysail.  We got the new one out into the nettings; seized on the tack, sheets, and halyards, and the hanks; manned the halyards, cut adrift the frapping-lines, and hoisted away; but before it was half-way up the stay it was blown all to pieces.  When we belayed the halyards, there was nothing left but the bolt-rope.  Now large eyes began to show themselves in the foresail, and, knowing that it must soon go, the mate ordered us upon the yard to furl it.  Being unwilling to call up the watch who had been on deck all night, he roused out the carpenter, sailmaker, cook, and steward, and with their help we manned the fore yard, and, after nearly half an hour’s struggle, mastered the sail, and got it well furled round the yard.  The force of the wind had never been greater than at this moment.  In going up the rigging, it seemed absolutely to pin us down to the shrouds; and, on the yard, there was no such thing as turning a face to windward.  Yet here was no driving sleet, and darkness, and wet, and cold, as off Cape Horn; and instead of stiff oil-cloth suits, southwester caps, and thick boots, we had on hats, round jackets, duck trousers, light shoes, and everything light and easy.  These things make a great difference to a sailor.  When we got on deck, the man at the wheel struck eight bells (four o’clock in the morning), and ``All Starbowlines, ahoy!’’ brought the other watch up, but there was no going below for us.  The gale was now at its height, ``blowing like scissors and thumb-screws’’; the captain was on deck; the ship, which was light, rolling and pitching