WORKING IN THE FOG. 75 



Here seated in the foreground on some convenient ledge intently listen- 

 ing to the deep sonorous music of the waters beneath, as the crest of each 

 great tidal wave comes rolling in from its long journey across the eastern 

 seas and breaks with thundering force upon the rocks below, once again 

 I am for a moment transported to some favorite spot and busily engaged 

 in my chosen work, only to awaken almost immediately from my reverie 

 to a painful consciousness of the delusion and to wonder whether or not 

 the desire was father to the dream. 



All through the months of September and October we worked at this 

 locality. There was a convenient and safe place for our horses at the back 

 of a little landslide near the foot of the cliff adjacent to our work, so that 

 we could ride down in the morning and back at night. The month of 

 September was in many ways a peculiar one. Not only was it early spring 

 with its equinoctial storms and high spring tides, but with us it was espe- 

 cially characterized by the the dense fogs which hung almost continually 

 over all, so completely enveloping everything that it was impossible to see 

 more than a few yards, or rods at most. Frequently during this month, 

 while working on the beach at low tide, for days at a time the fog would 

 be so dense as to completely obscure the bluffs of the shore, and where 

 there were no rivulets to direct our course we had to resort on such occa- 

 sions to the expedient of giving a sharp hallo and then direct our steps in 

 that direction from which the echo came if we wished to reach the bluffs. 

 On such days, though separated from one another frequently by a half 

 mile or even greater distances, we could hear distinctly each other's pick 

 strokes and could even converse without much difficulty. If, perchance, 

 one of us wanted some tool or other article in the possession of the other 

 he directed his steps by the direction from which came the sounds of the 

 pick strokes of the latter, and if, as sometimes happened, these were tem- 

 porarily suspended, we were forced to resort to the peculiar procedure of 

 enquiring of the whereabouts of one another. For twenty-eight days 

 during this month we never saw the sun, save for a few moments in the 

 early morning, and then only on three or four occasions. At such times, 

 however, it would appear only for a brief interval and shine with a bril- 

 liancy unequalled by the early morning sun of this region at other times, 

 giving promise of a bright and cheerful day, which would be almost imme- 

 diately dissipated by the appearance of the ever-present fog. It was in 

 this continuous fog that the sailing ship Columbia, bound round the Horn 



