70 THE CALL OF THE SEA 



III. FOG 



The Walls of Grey -^o <iy -^Ciy 



(From The Sea Wolf) 



'X'HEN we entered the fog. It was about us, 

 veiling and hiding us in its dense wet gauze. 

 The sudden transition was startling. The 

 moment before we had been leaping through the 

 sunshine, the clear sky above us, the sea breaking 

 and rolling wide to the horizon, and a ship, vomit- 

 ing smoke and fire and iron missiles, rushing 

 madly upon us. And at once, as in an instant's 

 leap, the sun was blotted out, there was no sky, 

 even our mastheads were lost to view, and our 

 horizon was such as tear-blinded eyes may see. 

 The grey mist drove by us like a rain. Every 

 woollen filament of our garments, every hair of 

 our heads and faces, was jewelled with a crystal 

 globule. The shrouds were wet with moisture ; 

 it dripped from our rigging overhead ; and on 

 the underside of our booms drops of water took 

 shape in long swaying lines, which were detached 

 and flung to the deck in mimic showers at each 

 surge of the schooner. I was aware of a pent, 

 stifled feeling. As the sounds of the ship, thrust- 

 ing herself through the waves, were hurled back 

 upon us by the fog, so were one's thoughts. The 

 mind recoiled from contemplation of a world be- 



