The California's Crew Manned Her
Weather Rigging, Waved Their Hats In The Air, And Gave Up Three
Hearty Cheers, Which We Answered As Heartily, And The Customary
Single Cheer Came Back To Us From Over The Water.
She stood on
her way, doomed to eighteen months' or two years' hard service upon
that hated coast, while we were making our way to our home, to which
every hour and every mile was bringing us nearer.
As soon as we parted company with the California, all hands were
sent aloft to set the studding-sails. Booms were rigged out,
tacks and halyards rove, sail after sail packed upon her, until
every available inch of canvas was spread, that we might not lose a
breath of the fair wind. We could now see how much she was cramped
and deadened by her cargo; for with a good breeze on her quarter,
and every stitch of canvas spread, we could not get more than six
knots out of her. She had no more life in her than if she were
water-logged. The log was hove several times; but she was doing
her best. We had hardly patience with her, but the older sailors
said - "Stand by! you'll see her work herself loose in a week
or two, and then she'll walk up to Cape Horn like a race-horse."
When all sail had been set, and the decks cleared up, the California
was a speck in the horizon, and the coast lay like a low cloud along
the north-east.
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