Driven to Bay, Volume II by Florence Marryat

Aided by the steady trades, the _Pandora_ crept up to the line, and in little more than a month from her date of sailing she crossed that invisible goal, and fell in with a dead calm in the horse latitudes.

It was a changeable day, but close and sultry, and the heat between decks was intolerable. The sun occasionally peeped out from behind black clouds, and cast his scorching rays upon the troubled waters, which rose and fell in angry chops, like the breast of an indignant woman. Everything was done to conciliate the fickle wind, but without avail. It behaved like a spoilt child, which is never happy unless acting in a contrary direction to what others desire. The yards were squared in, as it hauled aft, but before the ropes were coiled up the provoking element was round on the other quarter, and the shellbacks manned the forebrace. Then it went right ahead, and the unfortunate officer of the watch was compelled to box his yard, and have the trouble of getting the _Pandora_ on her course again in a dead calm. Heavy squalls came up from all points of the compass, and while they passed over the vessel sent her galloping along at a splendid pace. But in half-an-hour their force would expend itself; and torrents of rain poured down and left the ship again in the doldrums. The officers were weary of slacking away braces and countermanding orders; the sailors' hard hands, soaked with the rain, became sore and chafed; and the passengers were grumbling and discontented, because they were unable to remain on deck.