THE TYPHOON. 155

no particular reason why I should be disturbed, except, of
course, that I am a green hand at playing captain, and, as
you suggested yesterday, am apt to magnify trifles.”

This was said with an ill-assumed air of gaiety, and after
another look at the barometer, which was still falling, Ben
bade the “chief mate” good night, as he ascended the
companionway stairs.

During the entire night Ben remained on deck, watch-
ing the heavy masses of clouds which seemed to be break-
ing in every direction, and in her room, able to judge only
from the movements of the vessel as to what might be
going on, Miss Dunham kept her watch, fancying with
each plunge of the little brig that the threatened storm
had finally burst upon them.

Although so long anticipated, the typhoon came when
it was least expected.

Two hours after sunrise the wind burst upon them in
furious gusts, and instantly the buoyant craft was battling
with the waves which oftentimes completely submerged
her.

All hands, with the exception of Miss Dunham, were
on deck clinging to the life-lines, unable to do other than
keep the brig before the furious blast, and, even with four
men at the helm, this was not an easy matter, for the furi-
ous waves, striking the rudder as the hull was uplifted,
would break the grasp of the sailors, causing the wheel to
swing completely around before it could be checked.

Every movable thing on deck was washed overboard
before fifteen minutes had elapsed. One of the boats