Chapter 10

I come with mightier things;
Who calls mo silent? I have many tones--
The dark sky thrills with low mysterious moans,
Borne on my sweeping winds.

MRS. HEMANS.

The awaking of the winds on the ocean is frequently attended with signs
and portents as sublime as any the fancy can conceive. On the present
occasion, the breeze that had prevailed so steadily for a week was
succeeded by light baffling puffs, as if, conscious of the mighty powers
of the air that were assembling in their strength, these inferior blasts
were hurrying to and fro for a refuge. The clouds, too, were whirling
about in uncertain eddies, many of the heaviest and darkest descending so
low along the horizon, that they had an appearance of settling on the
waters in quest of repose. But the waters themselves were unnaturally
agitated. The billows, no longer following each other in long regular
waves, were careering upwards, like fiery coursers suddenly checked in
their mad career. The usual order of the eternally unquiet ocean was lost
in a species of chaotic tossings of the element, the seas heaving
themselves upward, without order, and frequently without visible cause.
This was the reaction of the currents, and of the influence of breezes
still older than the last. Not the least fearful symptom of the hour was
the terrific calmness of the air amid such a scene of menacing wildness.
Even the ship came into the picture to aid the impression of intense
expectation; for with her canvas reduced, she, too, seemed to have lost
that instinct which had so lately guided her along the trackless waste,
and was "wallowing," nearly helpless, among the confused waters. Still she
was a beautiful and a grand object, perhaps more so at that moment than at
any other; for her vast and naked spars, her well-supported masts, and all
the ingenious and complicated hamper of the machine, gave her a
resemblance to some sinewy and gigantic gladiator, pacing the arena, in
waiting for the conflict that was at hand.

"This is an extraordinary scene," said Eve, who clung to her father's arm,
as she gazed around her equally in admiration and in awe; "a dreadful
exhibition of the sublimity of nature!"

"Although accustomed to the sea," returned Mr. Blunt, "I have witnessed
these ominous changes but twice before, and I think this the grandest of
them all."

"Were the others followed by tempests?" inquired the anxious parent.

"One brought a tremendous gale, while the other passed away like a
misfortune of which we get a near view, but are permitted to escape
the effects."

"I do not know that I wish such to be entirely our present fortune,"
rejoined Eve,