Lost in the Fog

by James De Mille

"Is the fog coming up without any wind?"

"Course it is. What does the fog want of wind?"

"I thought it was the wind that brought it along."

"Bless your heart, the fog takes care of itself. The wind isn't a bit necessary. It kine o' pervades the hull atmosphere, an rolls itself on an on till all creation is overspread. Why, I've seen everything changed from bright sunshine to the thickest kind of fog in fifteen minutes,—yea, more,—and in five minutes."

Even while they were speaking the fog rolled on, the vast accumulation of mist rose higher and yet higher, and appeared to draw nearer with immense rapidity. It seemed as though the whole atmosphere was gradually becoming condensed, and precipitating its invisible watery vapor so as to make it visible in far-extending fog banks. It was not wind, therefore, that brought on the clouds, for the surface of the water was smooth and unruffled, but it was the character of the atmosphere itself from which this change was wrought. And still, as they looked at the approaching mist, the sky overhead was blue, and the sun shone bright. But the gathering clouds seemed now to have gained a greater headway, and came on more rapidly. In a few minutes the whole outline of the Nova Scotia coast faded from view, and in its place there appeared a lofty wall of dim gray cloud, which rose high in the air, fading away into the faintest outline. Overhead, the blue sky became rapidly more obscured; Ile Haute changed again from its grayish blue to a lighter shade, and then became blended with the impenetrable fog that was fast enclosing all things; and finally the clouds grew nearer, till the land nearest them was snatched from view, and all around was alike shrouded under the universal veil; nothing whatever was visible. For a hundred yards, or so, around them, they could see the surface of the water; but beyond this narrow circle, nothing more could be discerned.

"It's a very pooty fog," said Captain Corbet, "an I only wonder that there ain't any wind. If it should come, it'll be all right."

"You intend, then, to go on just the same."

"Jest the same as ef the sky was clear. I will up anchor as the tide begins to fall, an git a good piece down, so as to dodge Cape Chegnecto, an there wait for the rising tide, an jest the same as ef the sun was shinin. But we can't start till eight o'clock this evenin. Anyhow, you needn't trouble yourselves a mite. You may all go to sleep, an dream that the silver moon is guidin the traveller on the briny deep."

The scene now was too monotonous to attract attention, and the boys once more sought for some mode of passing the time. Nothing appeared so enticing as their former occupation of fishing, and to this they again turned their attention. In this employment the time passed away rapidly until the summons was given for tea. Around the festive board, which was again prepared by Solomon with his usual success, they lingered long, and at length, when they arose, the tide was high. It was now about eight o'clock in the evening, and Captain Corbet was all ready to start. As the tide was now beginning to turn, and was on the ebb, the anchor was raised, and the schooner, yielding to the pressure of the current, moved away from her anchorage ground. It was still thick, and darkness also was coming on. Not a thing could be discerned, and by looking at the water, which moved with the schooner, it did not seem as though any motion was made.

"That's all your blindness," said the captain, as they mentioned it to him. "You can't see anything but the water, an as it is movin with us, it doesn't seem as though we were movin. But we air, notwithstandin, an pooty quick too. I'll take two hours' drift before stoppin, so as to make sure. I calc'late about that time to get to a place whar I can hit the current that'll take me, with the risin tide, up to old Petticoat Jack."