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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Water-Witch or, the Skimmer of the Seas"

The sight was fearfully beautiful;--beautiful,
for it showed the symmetry and fine outlines of the vessel's rig,
resembling the effect of a group of statuary seen by torch-light,--and
fearful, since the dark void beyond seemed to declare their isolated and
helpless state.
There was one breathless, eloquent moment, in which all were seen gazing
at the grand spectacle in mute awe,--and then a voice rose, clear,
distinct, and commanding, above the sullen sound of the torrent of fire,
which was roaring among the avenues of the ship.
"Call all hands to extinguish fire! Gentlemen, to your stations. Be cool,
men; and be silent!"
There was a calmness and an authority in the tones of the young commander,
that curbed the impetuous feelings of the startled crew. Accustomed to
obedience, and trained to order, each man broke out of his trance, and
eagerly commenced the discharge of his allotted duty. At that instant, an
erect and unmoved form stood on the combings of the main hatch. A hand was
raised in the air, and the call, which came from the deep chest, was like
that of one used to speak in the tempest.
"Where are my brigantines?" it said--"Come away there, my sea-dogs; wet
the light sails, and follow!"
A group of grave and submissive mariners gathered about the 'Skimmer of
the Seas,' at the sound of his voice. Glancing an eye over them, as if to
scan their quality and number, he smiled, with a look in which high daring
and practised self-command was blended with a constitutional gaite de
coeur.


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