RED FOGS AND SEA BREEZES. 139 



sea breeze has regularly set in. Now small white clouds begin 

 to rise above the horizon ; to the experienced seaman they are a 

 prelude to a fiesh sea breeze. Wo welcome the first breath from 

 the sea ; it is cooling, but it soon ceases ; presently it is suc- 

 ceeded by other grateful puffs of air, which continue longer; 

 presently they settle down into the regular sea breeze, with its 

 cooling and refreshing breath. The sun declines, and the sea 

 wind — that is, the common trade-wind or monsoon which is 

 drawn towards the land — is awakened. It blows right earnestly, 

 as if it would perform its daily task with the greatest possible 

 ado. The air, itself refreshed upon the deep, becomes gray from 

 the vapour which envelops the promontories in mist, and cur- 

 tains the inland with dark clouds. The land is discernible only 

 by the darker tint which it gives to the mist ; but the distance 

 cannot be estimated. The sailor thinks himself farther from 

 shore than he really is, and steers on his course carelessly", while 

 the capricious wind lashes the waters, and makes a short and 

 broken sea, from the white caps of which light curls are torn, 

 with sportive hand, to float away like parti-coloured streamers 

 in the sunbeam. In the meanwhile clouds appear now and then 

 high in the air, yet it is too misty to see far. The sun ap- 

 proaches the horizon. Far over the land the clouds continue to 

 heap up ; already the thunder is heard among the distant hills ; 

 the thunder-bolts reverberate from hill-side to hill-side, while 

 through the mist the sheets of lightning are seen.* Finally, the 

 ' king of day ' sinks to rest ; now the mist gradually disappears ; 

 and as soon as the wind has laid down the lash, the sea, which, 

 chafing and fretting, had with curled mane resisted its violence, 

 begins to go down also. Presently both wind and waves are 

 hushed, and all again is still. Above the sea, the air is clearer or 

 slightly clouded ; above the land, it is thick, dark, and swollen. 

 To the feelings, this stillness is pleasant. The sea breeze, the 

 driving brine, that has made a salt-pan of the face, the short, 

 restless sea, the dampness — all have grown wearisome, and wel- 

 come is the calm. There is, however, a somewhat of dimness in 

 the air, an uncertain but threatening appearance. Presently, 

 from the dark mass of clouds, which hastens the change of day 

 into night, the thunder-storm peals forth. The rain falls in tor- 



* Ab Buiteiizorg, near Batavia, 40 English miles from the shore, five hun- 

 dred feet above tlie sea, with high liills around, these thunder-storms occur 

 between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. 



