Chapter 16 - Page 2

marge; so, on all
sides, a sea-gale operates as if an asteroid had fallen into the
brine; making ringed mountain billows, interminably expanding,
instead of ripples.

The great September waves breaking at the base of the Neversink
Highlands, far in advance of the swiftest pilot-boat, carry tidings.
And full often, they know the last secret of many a stout ship, never
heard of from the day she left port. Every wave in my eyes seems a
soul.

As there was no steering to be done, Jarl and I sheltered ourselves
as well as we could under the awning. And for the first two days, one
at a time, and every three or four hours, we dropped overboard for a
bath, clinging to the gun-wale; a sharp look-out being kept for
prowling sharks. A foot or two below the surface, the water
felt cool and refreshing.

On the third day a change came over us. We relinquished bathing, the
exertion taxing us too much. Sullenly we laid ourselves down; turned
our backs to each other; and were impatient of the slightest casual
touch of our persons. What sort of expression my own countenance
wore, I know not; but I hated to look at Jarl's. When I did it was a
glare, not a glance. I became more taciturn than he. I can not tell
what it was that came over me, but I wished I was alone. I felt that
so long as the calm lasted, we were without help; that neither could
assist the other; and above all, that for one, the water would hold
out longer than for two. I felt no remorse, not the slightest, for
these thoughts. It was instinct. Like a desperado giving up the
ghost, I desired to gasp by myself.

From being cast away with a brother, good God deliver me!

The four days passed. And on the morning of the fifth, thanks be to
Heaven, there came a breeze. Dancingly, mincingly it came, just
rippling the sea, until it struck our sails, previously set at the
very first token of its advance. At length it slightly freshened; and
our poor Chamois seemed raised from the dead.

Beyond expression delightful! Once more we heard the low humming of
the sea under our bow, as our boat, like a bird, went singing on its way.

How changed the scene! Overhead, a sweet blue haze, distilling
sunlight in drops. And flung abroad over the visible creation was the
sun-spangled, azure, rustling robe of the ocean, ermined with wave
crests; all else, infinitely blue. Such a cadence of musical sounds!
Waves chasing each other, and sporting and frothing in frolicsome
foam: painted fish rippling past; and anon the noise of wings as sea-
fowls flew by.

Oh, Ocean, when thou choosest to smile, more beautiful thou art than
flowery mead or