black tube, which wavered about, for all the world, like a gigantic
loch--leech, held by the tail between the finger and thumb, while it was
poking its vast snout about in the clouds in search of a spot to fasten on.

"Is the boat gun on the forecastle loaded?" said Captain Deadeye.
It is, sir."

"Then luff a bit--that will do--fire."

The gun was discharged, and down rushed the black wavering pillar in a
watery avalanche, and in a minute after the dark, heaving billows rolled o
ver the spot whereout it arose, as if no such thing had ever been.

This said troubling of the waters was neither more nor less than a
waterspout, which again is neither more nor less than a whirlwind at sea,
which gradually whisks the water round and round, and up and up, as you see
straws so raised, until it reaches a certain height, when it invariably
breaks. Before this I had thought that a waterspout was created by some
next to supernatural exertion of the power of the Deity, in order to suck
up water into the clouds, that they, like the wine--skins in Spain, may be
filled with rain.

The morning after the weather was clear and beautiful, although the wind
blew half a'gale. Nothing particular happened until about seven o'clock in
the evening. I had been invited to dine with the gunroom officers this day,
and every thing was going on smooth and comfortable, when Mr Splinter
spoke. "I say, master, don't you smell gunpowder?"

"Yes I do," said the little master, "or something deuced like it."