day, however. The "twister" "twisted" vigorously; twisted the ship
nearly in two; twisted the souls, or rather the stomachs, nearly out
of the bodies of the seasick victims. Even the well-pickled "old
salt," Captain Mountz, felt uncomfortable. And it was just as much
as Ishmael could do to keep himself up and avoid succumbing to
illness. Those two were the last of the passengers that attempted to
keep up. And they were very glad when night came and gave them an
excuse for retiring.

The predicted snowstorm came on about midnight. When Ishmael dressed
and struggled out of his stateroom in the morning, he found it just
the nearest thing to an impossibility to go up on deck. The wind was
still blowing a hurricane; the sea leaping in the wildest waves; the
ship pitching, tossing, and jerking as before; and in addition to
all this, the snow was falling thick and fast, and freezing as it
fell, and every part of the deck and rigging was covered with a
slippery, shining coating of ice.

Those who find it dangerous to walk on a motionless pavement in
sleety weather may now imagine what is was to climb the ice-sheathed
steps of this pitching ship.

Ishmael managed to get up on deck somehow; but he found the place
deserted of all except the man at the wheel and the officer of the
watch. Even the old sea lion, Captain Mountz, was among the missing.

There was little to be seen. He stood on the deck of a tossing ship
of ice, in the midst of a high wind, a boiling sea, and a storm of
snow; he could not discern an object a foot in advance of him.