ro6 THE CALL OF THE SEA 



waste of water, I began to make out a quarter 

 where the whiteness appeared more condensed ; 

 the sky above was whitish hkewise, and misty hke 

 a squall ; and little by little there thrilled upon my 

 ears a note deeper and more terrible than the 

 yelling of the gale — the long, thundering roll of 

 breakers. Nares wiped his night-glass on his 

 sleeve and passed it to me, motioning, as he did 

 so, with his hand. An endless wilderness of 

 raging billows came and went and danced in 

 the circle of the glass ; now and then a pale corner 

 of sky, or the strong line of the horizon rugged 

 with the heads of waves ; and then of a sudden — 

 come and gone ere I could fix it, with a swallow's 

 swiftness — one glimpse of what we had come so 

 far and paid so dear to see : the masts and rigging 

 of a brig pencilled on heaven, with an ensign 

 streaming at the main, and the ragged ribbons of 

 a topsail thrashing from the yard. Again and 

 again, with toilful searching, I recalled that appa- 

 rition. There was no sign of any land ; the wreck 

 stood between sea and sky, a thing the most 

 isolated I had ever viewed ; but as we drew nearer 

 I perceived her to be defended by a line of 

 breakers which drew off on either hand and 

 marked, indeed, the nearest segment of the reef. 

 Heavy spray hung over them like a smoke, some 

 hundred feet into the air ; and the sound of their 

 consecutive explosions rolled like a cannonade. 



