A RISING GALE. 
147 
rays of the sun ; not a fitful breath of disturbed ah 
chilled our blood, or darkly ruffled the smooth and 
placid surface of the sleeping gulf. All was quiet: nature 
lived her inanimate life around us in the form of water 
and sky only; for the low land of Pichili, though visible 
from the deck of the steamer, had sunk below the clearly- 
defined horizon as we descended into the boat, and the 
ship herself had slowly steamed from us on her trackless 
path, until, from a mere speck upon the opposite horizon, 
she had finally disappeared entirely. Neither the air 
nor the water showed a sign of life. We were alone 
upon the motionless surface of an unknown sea, with 
the silent repose of nature for our only companion. At 
noon I got an altitude of the sun, and then, leaving the 
coxswain to note the soundings, stretched out for a nap 
in the sunny corner of the stern-sheets. An hour passed, 
and its last minutes found me shivering with cold and 
gazing anxiously at a loAvering change which had come 
over the face of awakening nature. 
“The sea was no longer smooth and polished, but 
broken by rising waves and of an inky hue; while the 
sun was hidden by dense masses of driving clouds whose 
lurid edges indicated the commencement of a northern 
gale. The wind was already blowing quite fresh, and 
the boat rolling uneasily in the rising sea, dipping in the 
spray-crests occasionally, and jerking at her anchor as if 
asking for more chain. I began to think we might be in 
an awkward predicament, but kept my fears to myself, 
and ordered more chain veered. Then we unshipped the 
howitzer and got it in the bottom, after which she rode 
easier. Anxious eyes now began to be cast in the sup- 
