Bornese and Malay Islands: at which the captain's glass began to
sweep the horizon again: and night and day at the dizzy
foretop-gallant-masthead he perched an eye.

They crossed the line in longitude 107, with a slight breeze, but soon
fell into the Dolddrums. A dead calm, and nothing to do but kill
time. . . .

After lying a week like a dead log on the calm but heaving waters came a
few light puffs in the upper air and inflated the topsails only: the ship
crawled southward, the crew whistling for wind.

At last, one afternoon, it began to rain, and after the rain came a gale
from the eastward. The watchful skipper saw it purple the water to
windward, and ordered the topsails to be reefed and the lee ports closed.
This last order seemed an excess of precaution; but Dodd was not yet
thoroughly acquainted with his ship's qualities: and the hard cash round
his neck made him cautious. The lee ports were closed, all but one, and
that was lowered. Mr. Grey was working a problem in his cabin, and
wanted a little light and a little air, so he just dropped his port; but,
not to deviate from the spirit of his captain's instructions, he fastened
a tackle to it; that he might have mechanical force to close it with
should the ship lie over.

Down came the gale with a whoo, and made all crack. The ship lay over
pretty much, and the sea poured in at Mr. Grey's port. He applied his
purchase to close it. But though his tackle gave him the force of a
dozen hands, he might as well have tried to move a mountain: on the
contrary, the tremendous sea rushed in and burst the port wide open.
Grey, after a vain struggle with its might, shrieked for help; down