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Luckily he rolled in, and not out, or he would have rolled to the edge of the ship. Not that he could have gone overboard, for there was a railing and netting to stop that, but he would have been badly frightened if he had rolled near the edge, I think.
"Look out!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, as he saw Bert sliding and slipping. "Look out, or you'll fall downstairs!"
And that is just what happened. Bert rolled to the top of the companionway stairs, and right down them. Luckily he was a stout, chubby boy, and, as it happened, just then a sailor was coming up the stairs, and Bert rolled into him. The sailor was nearly knocked off his feet by the collision with Bert, but he managed to get hold of a rail and hold on.
"My! My! What's this?" cried the sailor, when he got his breath, which Bert had partly knocked from him. "Is this a new way to come downstairs?"
"I -- I didn't mean to," Bert answered, as he managed to stand up and hold on to the man. "The ship turned upside down, I guess, and I rolled down here."
"Well, as long as you're not hurt it's all right," said the sailor with a laugh. "It is certainly a rough storm. Better get below and stay there until it blows out."
"Yes, sir, I'm getting," grinned Bert.
"I think that is good advice," said Mr. Bobbsey to the sailor, with a smile, as he hurried after Bert, but not coming in the same fashion as his son.
Nan had grabbed tightly hold of a rope and clung to it when the ship gave a lurch. She was not hurt, but her arms ached from holding on so tightly.
After that one big roll and toss the steamer became steady for a little while, and Mr. Bobbsey and the two children made their way to the stateroom where Mrs. Bobbsey was sitting with Flossie and Freddie.
"What happened?" asked Bert's mother, as she saw that he was rather "mussed up," from what had occurred.
"Oh, I tried to come down the stairs head first," Bert answered with a laugh. "I don't like that way. I'm not going to do it again," and he told what had taken place.
And then the storm burst with a shower of rain and a heavy wind that tossed and pitched the boat, and made many of the passengers wish they were safe on shore.
The Bobbsey twins had often been on the water, when on visits to Uncle William at the seashore, as I have told you in that book, and they were not made ill by the pitching and tossing of the steamer.
Still it was not much fun to stay below decks, which they and the others had to do all that night and most of the next day. It was too rough for any one to be out on deck, and even the sailors, used as they were to it, had trouble. One of them was nearly washed overboard, but his mates saved him. And one of the lifeboats -- the same one in which the men had gone to save the fishermen from the sharks -- was broken and torn away when a big wave hit it.
"Is it always rough like this when you go past Cape Hatteras?" asked Bert of his father.
"Very frequently, yes. You see Cape Hatteras is a point of land of North Carolina, sticking out into the ocean. In the ocean are currents of water, and when one rushes one way and one the other, and they come together, it makes a rough sea, especially when there is a strong wind, as there is now. We are in this rough part of the ocean, and in the midst of a storm, too. But we will soon be out of it."
However, the steamer could not go so fast in the rough water as she could have traveled had it been smooth, and the wind, blowing against her, also held her back. So it was not until late on the second day that the storm passed away, or rather, until the ship got beyond it.
Then the rain stopped, the sun came out from behind the clouds just before it was time to set, and the hard time was over. The sea was rough, and would be for another day, the sailors said.
"And can we go on deck in the morning?" asked Bert, who did not like being shut up in the stateroom.
"I guess so," his father answered.
The next morning all was calm and peaceful, though the waves were larger than when the Bobbsey twins had left New York.
Every one was glad that the storm had passed, and that nothing had happened to the steamer, except the loss of the one small boat.
"Were those fishermen who fought the sharks out in all that blow in their small motor boat, Dad?" asked Bert.
"Oh, no," his father told him. "They only go out from shore, take up their nets or lobster pots, and go quickly back again. Their boats are not made for staying out in all night. Though perhaps sometimes, in a fog, when they can't see to get back, they may be out a long time. But I don't believe they were out in this storm."
It was peaceful traveling now, on the deep blue sea, which was a pretty color again, and the Bobbsey twins, leaning over the rail and looking at it, thought they had never come on such a fine voyage.
"It's getting warmer," said Bert when they had eaten dinner and were once more on deck.
"Yes, we are getting farther south, nearer to the equator, and it is always warm there," said Mr. Bobbsey.
"Are we near Florida?" asked Nan.
"Yes, we will be there this evening," her father told her.
It was late in the afternoon when the steamer reached Jacksonville. As the arrival of the steamship had been delayed by the storm, the Bobbsey's were left no time to look about Jacksonville, but hurried at once to the railroad station, and there took the train that carried them to St. Augustine. It was about an hour before sunset when they got out of the train at this quaint, pretty old town.
"Oh, what funny little streets!" cried Bert, as they started for their hotel where they were to stay until they could go to the hospital and see Cousin Jasper. "What little streets!"
"Aren't they darling?" exclaimed Nan.
"Yes, this is a very old city," said Mr. Bobbsey, "and some of the streets are no wider than they were made when they were laid out here over three hundred years ago."
"Oh, is this city as old as that -- three hundred years?" asked Nan, while Flossie and Freddie peered about at the strange sights.
"Yes, and older," said Mr. Bobbsey. "St. Augustine is the oldest city in the United States. It was settled in 1565 by the Spaniards, and I suppose they built it like some of the Spanish cities they knew. That is why the streets are so narrow."
And indeed the streets were very narrow. The one called St. George is only seventeen feet wide, and it is the principal street in St. Augustine. Just think of a street not much wider than a very big room. And Treasury street is even narrower, being so small that two people can stand and shake hands across it. Really, one might call it only an alley, and not a street.
The Bobbseys saw many negroes about the streets, some driving little donkey carts, and others carrying fruit and other things in baskets on their heads.
"Don't they ever fall off?" asked Freddie, as he watched one big, fat colored woman on whose head, covered with a bright, red handkerchief, or "bandanna," there was a large basket of fruit. "Don't they ever fall off?"
"What do you mean fall off -- their heads?" asked Bert with a smile.
"No, I mean the things they carry," said Freddie.
"Well, I guess they start in carrying things that way from the time they are children," said Mrs. Bobbsey, "and they learn to balance things on their heads as well as you children learn to balance yourselves on roller skates. I dare say the colored people here would find it as hard to roller skate as you would to carry a heavy load on your head."
"Well, here we are at our hotel," said Mr. Bobbsey, as the automobile in which they had ridden up from the station came to a stop in front of a fine building. "Now we will get out and see what they have for supper."
"And then will we go to Cousin Jasper and find out what his strange story is?"
"I guess so," her father answered.
"Say, this is a fine hotel!" exclaimed Bert as he and the others saw the beautiful palm and flower gardens, with fountains between them, in the courtyard of the place where they were to stop.
"Oh, yes, St. Augustine has wonderful hotels," said his father. "This is a place where many rich people come to spend the winter that would be too cold for them in New York. Now come inside."
Into the beautiful hotel they went, and when Mr. Bobbsey was asking about their rooms, and seeing that the baggage was brought in, Mrs. Bobbsey glanced around to make sure the four twins were with her, for sometimes Flossie or Freddie strayed off.
And that is what had happened this time. Freddie was not in sight.
"Oh, where is that boy?" cried his mother. "I hope he hasn't crawled down another ventilator pipe!"