“Call all hands to reef topsails.”

The shrill pipe of the boatswain’s whistle soon rang above the howling winds, which now sounded gloomily through the rigging.  The call was repeated in the steerage, and at the door of the after cabin, where it could be heard by the officers, for no one on board is exempted when all hands are called.  This was the first taste of the hardships of a seaman’s life to which the students had been invited.  It is not pleasant, to say the least, to be turned out of a warm bed in a gale, when the wind comes cold and furious, laden with the spray of the ocean, and be sent aloft in the rigging of the ship, when she is rolling and pitching, jumping and jerking, in the mad waves.  But there is no excuse at such a time, and nothing but positive physical disability can exempt officer or seaman from duty.

It was the first time the boys had seen a gale at sea, and though it was not yet what would be called a strong gale, it was sufficiently terrific to produce a deep impression upon them.  The ship was still close-hauled, under topsails and courses, with jib and spanker.  The wind came in heavy blasts, and when they struck the sails, the Young America heeled over, until her lee yard-arm seemed to be dipping the waves.  Huge billows came roaring down from the windward, crowned with white foam, and presenting an awful aspect in the night, striking the ship, lifting her bow high in the air, and breaking over the rail, pouring tons of water on the deck.

Before the whole crew had been called, every opening in the deck had been secured, and the plank guards placed over the glass in the skylights.  Life lines had been stretched along the decks, and the swinging ports, through which the water that came over the rail escaped, were crossed with whale line by Peaks, to prevent any unlucky boy from being washed through, if he happened to be thrown off his feet by a rush of water to the scuppers.

The scene was wild and startling; it was even terrible to those who had never seen anything of the kind before, though the old sailors regarded it quite as a matter of course.  Peaks had never been known to be so jolly and excited since he came on board.  He was full of jokes and witty sayings; he seemed to be in his element now, and all his powers of body and mind were in the keenest state of excitement.

The students were disposed to look upon it as a rough time, and doubtless some of them thought the ship was in great peril.  Not a few of them pretended to enjoy the scene, and talked amazingly salt, as though they had been used to this kind of thing all their lives.  Mr. Lowington came on deck, when all hands were called; and though, to his experienced eye, there was no danger while the ship was well managed, he was exceedingly anxious, for it was a time when accidents were prone to happen, and the loss of a boy at such an hour, would endanger the success of his great experiment.  On deck, the students could not get overboard without the grossest carelessness; but it was perilous to send them aloft in the gloom of the howling tempest.  He had hoped that he might be permitted to meet the onslaught of the first gale the ship encountered in the daytime; but as the “clerk of the weather” otherwise ordained it, he was compelled to make the best of the circumstances.