Part 14 (1/2)

And then the next thing came--the mist. I cannot remember now, whether it was on the day we buried Williams that we first saw it, or the day after.

When first I noticed it, like everybody else aboard, I took it to be some form of haze, due to the heat of the sun; for it was broad daylight when the thing came.

The wind had died away to a light breeze, and I was working at the main rigging, along with Plummer, putting on seizings.

”Looks as if 'twere middlin' 'ot,” he remarked.

”Yes,” I said; and, for the time, took no further notice.

Presently he spoke again:

”It's gettin' quite 'azy!” and his tone showed he was surprised.

I glanced up, quickly. At first, I could see nothing. Then, I saw what he meant. The air had a wavy, strange, unnatural appearance; something like the heated air over the top of an engine's funnel, that you can often see when no smoke is coming out.

”Must be the heat,” I said. ”Though I don't remember ever seeing anything just like it before.”

”Nor me,” Plummer agreed.

It could not have been a minute later when I looked up again, and was astonished to find that the whole s.h.i.+p was surrounded by a thinnish haze that quite hid the horizon.

”By Jove! Plummer,” I said. ”How queer!”

”Yes,” he said, looking round. ”I never seen anythin' like it before-- not in these parts.”

”Heat wouldn't do that!” I said.

”N--no,” he said, doubtfully.

We went on with our work again--occasionally exchanging an odd word or two. Presently, after a little time of silence, I bent forward and asked him to pa.s.s me up the spike. He stooped and picked it up from the deck, where it had tumbled. As he held it out to me, I saw the stolid expression on his face, change suddenly to a look of complete surprise.

He opened his mouth.

”By gum!” he said. ”It's gone.”

I turned quickly, and looked. And so it had--the whole sea showing clear and bright, right away to the horizon.

I stared at Plummer, and he stared at me.

”Well, I'm blowed!” he exclaimed.

I do not think I made any reply; for I had a sudden, queer feeling that the thing was not right. And then, in a minute, I called myself an a.s.s; but I could not really shake off the feeling. I had another good look at the sea. I had a vague idea that something was different. The sea looked brighter, somehow, and the air clearer, I thought, and I missed something; but not much, you know. And it was not until a couple of days later, that I knew that it was several vessels on the horizon, which had been quite in sight before the mist, and now were gone.

During the rest of the watch, and indeed all day, there was no further sign of anything unusual. Only, when the evening came (in the second dog-watch it was) I saw the mist rise faintly--the setting sun s.h.i.+ning through it, dim and unreal.

I knew then, as a certainty, that it was not caused by heat.

And that was the beginning of it.

The next day, I kept a pretty close watch, during all my time on deck; but the atmosphere remained clear. Yet, I heard from one of the chaps in the Mate's watch, that it had been hazy during part of the time he was at the wheel.

”Comin' an' goin', like,” he described it to me, when I questioned him about it. He thought it might be heat.