watch on deck, of which I was a member, had collected just abaft the main-mast, that we might be in readiness to obey the orders from the officers of the deck without delay.

To while away the long hours of the middlewatch, we resorted to the never-failing entertainment of "spinning yarns." Naturally enough, these yarns upon the present occasion, took the form of tales of shipwreck and disaster and fearful accounts were given by our veteran "salts," of ships which had sunk in mid ocean, carrying down nearly all on board to a watery grave,—of ships burnt at sca, or dashed in pieces among the breakers of a rocky lee shore, and of ships which had sailed from port, with hundreds of happy human beings on board, and whose fate had been briefly told in the comprehensive phrase,-" Sailed, and never heard from." Such stories as these were listened to with an interest heightened to a degree which a landsman can scarcely conceive of, by the sight of the tempest-tossed waves around us, and the roar of the gale above our heads.

Suddenly, a sound of terrible import fell upon our ears, interrupting the narrative to which we were eagerly listening, and causing a profound silence for several minutes, as we lis

tened with breathless anxiety for its repetition. Again and again, that fearful sound, so painful to all endowed with the feeling of sympathy for their fellow beings in danger and distress, came booming over the angry waters, chilling the blood in our veins, and sending a thrill of sorrow to the hardest heart.

It was the minute gun, the signal of distress at sea- coming from a point far to windward of us. It was evident to all, that even had it been safe for us to make sail in such a tempest, it would still be impossible to beat the ship up to the point whence the signal proceeded, in season to render any assistance.

The officer of the deck, however, called the captain, who immediately hastened on deck for the purpose of doing everything that was possible, under the circumstances, in the faint hope of being able to relieve the unfortunate vessel.

He commanded that rockets and blue lights. should be shown at intervals for the purpose of letting the sufferers know that their signal of distress had been heard, and encourage them to the last to exert themselves to keep their ship afloat until, perchance, the subsidence of the gale, or a change of wind, might enable us to come to their rescue.

This was accordingly done; and after a few rockets had been sent up from our own ship, answering signals were observed far to windward. It was too dark, however, for us to make out the vessel in distress with the nightglass; and after a short time, we saw no more of her signals, although the minute gun was still fired without cessation.

Meanwhile, great excitement prevailed on board our own ship. The watch below had been aroused by the bustle on deck, and had turned out, long before eight bells, and all hands were assembled on deck, listening with painful emotions to the dull boom of the signal gun, and "hoping against hope," for the ultimate safety of those on board the sinking ship, whose distressed condition they knew so well yet were unable to relieve.

Our commander paced the quarter-deck in a most excited manner, occasionally exchanging a few words with one of the officers, and, ever and anon, consulting the "dog-vane" to ascertain if the wind had veered. At length, after the lapse of nearly an hour since the first gun had been heard, the wind suddenly hauled aft several points, and, at the same time, perceptibly subsided.

Upon this our captain lost no time in giving the proper orders for making sail, and getting the ship under way. The fore and fore-topmast stay-sail, main spencer and close reefed spanker were first set; and, as soon as the ship had acquired steerage way, and been brought to her course, the reefed fore-sail, main-sail, and main-top-sail were successively spread to the gale.

Under this canvas, the ship bowed to the tempest, which still roared furiously, until her lee chains were submerged in the foaming waves, while her stout masts bent and swayed like coach whips, and at every headlong plunge, we more than half expected to hear the strained rigging burst asunder, and see the spars go overboard.

Yet no such disaster occurred. The masts and rigging, although strained to a fearful extent, still resisted the force of the gale, which bore us on our course with the speed of a racehorse. Each successive report of the signal gun sounded "ncarer, clearer," than before, and we had begun to cherish a strong hope of being able to relieve our distressed fellow beings, when suddenly the minute gun ceased; and, although the hearts of all stood still, as,

breathless and silent, we listened for another report, it came not again!

At length, we could no longer resist the fearful conviction, that the unfortunate ship, with its precious freight of human lives, had been engulphed by the maddened billows; and with sorrowful hearts we commenced the labor of shortening sail, and heaving the ship to, in obedience to the orders of the captain.

Such an incident as the foregoing, is not, by any means, of unfrequent occurrence upon the ocean. It affords but one of the many proofs which, almost daily come under the observation of sailors, that "life on the ocean wave" is held by a frail and uncertain tenure; and that those "who go down to the sea in ships" have need to be ever prepared for the awful event of an instant transition from time to eteruity.

We never ascertained, with any degree of certainty, the name of the unfortunate vessel, which, undoubtedly, went down during that dark and stormy night, off Cape Horn. So many ships were reported as "lost," "missing," or "not heard from " upon our arrival home, that we could not, in this manner, gain any information that would afford us the melancholy satisfaction of knowing her name and destination, or the names of those on board.