I don't like the sky at all." "Watch, ho!" thereupon shouted Jackson.

"Up you go and furl the mainsail." This was soon accomplished, after which there was a scurry up the ratlines forward and the foresail followed suit, and thus, the topsail halliards were let go and the yards dropped on the caps for the men to lay out and double reef the upper sails, when they were again hoisted up only about a third of their former size, and looking like slabs of board against the masts, everything being hauled taut.
"We'll have it soon now," said Captain Miles--"hark!" As he spoke, there was a rumbling noise in the distance, approaching nearer and nearer every second, and then, there came another deafening roar of thunder right over our heads, followed by a deadly zigzag sheet of lightning, not a flash, that lit up the whole sky.
"Look sharp and batten down the hatches, the rain is close on the heels of that, I know," cried the captain; but the men had hardly time to execute his order ere the heavens seemed to open and a deluge of water fell on to the ship, as if some reservoir above had suddenly burst.

It literally swept down like a cataract, and almost beat me down to the deck with its force.
It hardly lasted a minute, but in that brief spell it filled the scuppers just as if we had shipped a heavy sea, of course wetting us all to the skin.
Next there was heard the same moaning noise along the surface of the ocean that we had heard at first, and then, as the rain stopped, a terrific gust of wind from the south-east caught us just abaft the beam, the ship heeled over until her yard-arms dipped, and we thought she was going to "turn turtle," or capsize.
"Hard up with the helm!" screamed out Captain Miles, Mr Marline jumping to the spokes of the wheel at the same time to help the man steering, when, fortunately, the _Josephine_ payed off handsomely, righting again at the same moment, to our great relief.
"Brace up the yards!" then shouted the captain; and, in another instant, the vessel was dashing along madly towards the north-west, scudding before the rapidly risen gale, even with the little canvas she carried, at a greater rate of speed than she had ever attained with every sail set.

She was going twelve knots, good, and increasing her velocity apparently each moment, the sea not yet having had time to get up and nothing interfering with her progress through the water, although the wind shrieked and howled destruction after her as it urged her along..