If, on the contrary, during a rainy period which has already had a long duration, the barometer commences to rise slowly and regularly, very certainly fine weather will come, and it will last much longer if a long interval elapses between its arrival and the rising of the barometer.
3.
In the two cases given, if the change of weather follows immediately the movement of the barometrical column, that change will last only a very short time.
4.
If the barometer rises with slowness and in a continuous manner for two or three days, or even more, it announces fine weather, even when the rain will not cease during those three days, and vice versa; but if the barometer rises two days or more during the rain, then, the fine weather having come, if it commences to fall again, the fine weather will last a very short time, and vice versa.
5.
In the spring and in the autumn, a sudden fall of the barometer presages wind.
In the summer, if the weather is very warm, it announces a storm.
In winter, after a frost of some duration, a rapid falling of the barometrical column announces a change of wind, accompanied by a thaw and rain; but a rising which happens during a frost which has already lasted a certain time, prognosticates snow.
6.
Rapid oscillations of the barometer should never be interpreted as presaging dry or rainy weather of any duration.
Those indications are given exclusively by the rising or the falling which takes place in a slow and continuous manner.
7.
Toward the end of autumn, if after prolonged rainy and windy weather, the barometer begins to rise, that rising announces the passage of the wind to the north and the approach of the frost.
Such are the general consequences to draw from the indications of this precious instrument.
Dick Sand knew all that perfectly well, as he had ascertained for himself in different circumstances of his sailor's life, which made him very skilful in putting himself on his guard against all contingencies.
Now, just toward the 20th of February, the oscillations of the barometrical column began to preoccupy the young novice, who noted them several times a day with much care.
In fact, the barometer began to fall in a slow and continuous manner, which presages rain; but, this rain being delayed, Dick Sand concluded from that, that the bad weather would last.
That is what must happen.
But the rain was the wind, and in fact, at that date, the breeze freshened so much that the air was displaced with a velocity of sixty feet a second, say thirty-one miles an hour.
Dick Sand was obliged to take some precautions so as not to risk the
"Pilgrim's" masting and sails.
Already he had the royal, the fore-staff, and the flying-jib taken in, and he resolved to do the same with the top-sail, then take in two reefs in the top-sail.
This last operation must present certain difficulties with a crew of little experience.
Hesitation would not do, however, and no one hesitated.
Dick Sand, accompanied by Bat and Austin, climbed into the rigging of the foremast, and succeeded, not without trouble, in taking in the top-sail.
In less threatening weather he would have left the two yards on the mast, but, foreseeing that he would probably be obliged to level that mast, and perhaps even to lay it down upon the deck, he unrigged the two yards and sent them to the deck. In fact, it is understood that when the wind becomes too strong, not only must the sails be diminished, but also the masting. That is a great relief to the ship, which, carrying less weight above, is no longer so much strained with the rolling and pitching.
This first work accomplished—and it took two hours—Dick Sand and his companions were busy reducing the surface of the top-sail, by taking in two reefs.
The
"Pilgrim" did not carry, like the majority of modern ships, a double top-sail, which facilitates the operation.
It was necessary, then, to work as formerly—that is to say, to run out on the foot-ropes, pull toward you a sail beaten by the wind, and lash it firmly with its reef-lines.
It was difficult, long, perilous; but, finally, the diminished top-sail gave less surface to the wind, and the schooner was much relieved.
Dick Sand came down again with Bat and Austin.
The "Pilgrim" was then in the sailing condition demanded by that state of the atmosphere which has been qualified as "very stiff."
During the three days which followed, 20th, 21st and 22d of February, the force and direction of the wind were not perceptibly changed.
All the time the mercury continued to fall in the barometrical tube, and, on this last day, the novice noted that it kept continually below twenty-eight and seven-tenths inches.
Besides, there was no appearance that the barometer would rise for some time.
The aspect of the sky was bad, and extremely windy.
Besides, thick fogs covered it constantly.
Their stratum was even so deep that the sun was no longer seen, and it would have been difficult to indicate precisely the place of his setting and rising.
Dick Sand began to be anxious.
He no longer left the deck; he hardly slept.
However, his moral energy enabled him to drive back his fears to the bottom of his heart.
The next day, February 22d, the breeze appeared to decrease a little in the morning, but Dick Sand did not trust in it.
He was right, for in the afternoon the wind freshened again, and the sea became rougher.
Toward four o'clock, Negoro, who was rarely seen, left his post and came up on the forecastle.
Dingo, doubtless, was sleeping in some corner, for it did not bark as usual.
Negoro, always silent, remained for half an hour observing the horizon.
Long surges succeeded each other without, as yet, being dashed together.
However, they were higher than the force of the wind accounted for.