{"id":"01KG8AMH2Q4BZ8EEMD19AFZ8MW","cid":"bafkreig6uemsfypofk3ceycvcs2ncc2g3nmvz54mhgedbf5jyaugs7mmvu","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":4278,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.270Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 6","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":4205,"text":"stick itself, still further jeopardised their lives. But there was no\r\nprospect of a cessation of the gale, and the order was at last given.\r\n\r\nAt this time a hurricane of slanting sleet and hail was descending upon\r\nus; the rigging was coated with a thin glare of ice, formed within the\r\nhour.\r\n\r\n“Aloft, main-yard-men! and all you main-top-men! and furl the\r\nmain-sail!” cried Mad Jack.\r\n\r\nI dashed down my hat, slipped out of my quilted jacket in an instant,\r\nkicked the shoes from my feet, and, with a crowd of others, sprang for\r\nthe rigging. Above the bulwarks (which in a frigate are so high as to\r\nafford much protection to those on deck) the gale was horrible. The\r\nsheer force of the wind flattened us to the rigging as we ascended, and\r\nevery hand seemed congealing to the icy shrouds by which we held.\r\n\r\n“Up—up, my brave hearties!” shouted Mad Jack; and up we got, some way\r\nor other, all of us, and groped our way out on the yard-arms.\r\n\r\n“Hold on, every mother’s son!” cried an old quarter-gunner at my side.\r\nHe was bawling at the top of his compass; but in the gale, he seemed to\r\nbe whispering; and I only heard him from his being right to windward of\r\nme.\r\n\r\nBut his hint was unnecessary; I dug my nails into the _jack-stays_, and\r\nswore that nothing but death should part me and them until I was able\r\nto turn round and look to windward. As yet, this was impossible; I\r\ncould scarcely hear the man to leeward at my elbow; the wind seemed to\r\nsnatch the words from his mouth and fly away with them to the South\r\nPole.\r\n\r\nAll this while the sail itself was flying about, sometimes catching\r\nover our heads, and threatening to tear us from the yard in spite of\r\nall our hugging. For about three quarters of an hour we thus hung\r\nsuspended right over the rampant billows, which curled their very\r\ncrests under the feet of some four or five of us clinging to the\r\nlee-yard-arm, as if to float us from our place.\r\n\r\nPresently, the word passed along the yard from wind-ward, that we were\r\nordered to come down and leave the sail to blow, since it could not be\r\nfurled. A midshipman, it seemed, had been sent up by the officer of the\r\ndeck to give the order, as no trumpet could be heard where we were.\r\n\r\nThose on the weather yard-arm managed to crawl upon the spar and\r\nscramble down the rigging; but with us, upon the extreme leeward side,\r\nthis feat was out of the question; it was, literary, like climbing a\r\nprecipice to get to wind-ward in order to reach the shrouds: besides,\r\nthe entire yard was now encased in ice, and our hands and feet were so\r\nnumb that we dared not trust our lives to them. Nevertheless, by\r\nassisting each other, we contrived to throw ourselves prostrate along\r\nthe yard, and embrace it with our arms and legs. In this position, the\r\nstun’-sail-booms greatly assisted in securing our hold. Strange as it\r\nmay appear, I do not suppose that, at this moment, the slightest\r\nsensation of fear was felt by one man on that yard. We clung to it with\r\nmight and main; but this was instinct. The truth is, that, in\r\ncircumstances like these, the sense of fear is annihilated in the\r\nunutterable sights that fill all the eye, and the sounds that fill all\r\nthe ear. You become identified with the tempest; your insignificance is\r\nlost in the riot of the stormy universe around.\r\n\r\nBelow us, our noble frigate seemed thrice its real length—a vast black\r\nwedge, opposing its widest end to the combined fury of the sea and\r\nwind.\r\n\r\nAt length the first fury of the gale began to abate, and we at once\r\nfell to pounding our hands, as a preliminary operation to going to\r\nwork; for a gang of men had now ascended to help secure what was left\r\nof the sail; we somehow packed it away, at last, and came down.\r\n\r\nAbout noon the next day, the gale so moderated that we shook two reefs\r\nout of the top-sails, set new courses, and stood due east, with the\r\nwind astern.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 6"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJQSEG0NG7XBMK0AZEKS5","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMH2Q7PPFRDX4YQ5BV3QG","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AMH2QT583E2DNKEATTMVR","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:40.023Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:45.902Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}