ten o'clock
The wild antics of the schooner were sickening as she forged along . She would almost stop , as though climbing a mountain , then rapidly rolling to right and left as she gained the summit of a huge sea , she steadied herself and paused for a moment as though affrighted at the yawning precipice before her . Like an avalanche , she shot forward and down as the sea astern struck her with the force of a thousand battering rams , burying her bow to the cat-heads in the milky foam at the bottom that came on deck in all directions -- forward , astern , to right and left , through the hawse-pipes and over the rail . The wind began to drop , and by ten o'clock we were talking of heaving her to . We passed a ship , two schooners and a four-masted barkentine under the smallest canvas , and at eleven o'clock , running up the spanker and jib , we hove her to , and in another hour we were beating back again against the aftersea under full sail to regain the sealing ground away to the westward . Below , a couple of men were sewing the `` bricklayer 's '' body in canvas preparatory to the sea burial . And so with the storm passed away the `` bricklayer 's '' soul .