Towards morning the Tankadere entered the Straits of Fo-kien, which separate Formosa from the Chinese coasts. The sea was very rough, and it was difficult to stand on deck. At daybreak the wind freshened still more, and there was every appearance of a storm. The mercury rose and fell at intervals. In the south-east the sea rose in a long swell, which betokened a tempest.
The pilot studied the aspect of the heavens for a long time, and at last said to Mr. Fogg:
"I suppose I may tell your honour what I think?"
"Of course," replied Fogg.
"Well, then, we are going to have a storm."
"From the north or south?" asked Mr. Fogg calmly.
"From the south. A typhoon is approaching."
"I am glad it is coming from the south, it will help us on."
"Oh, if you look on it in that light," said Bunsby, "I have no more to say."
The presentiments of Bunsby were fulfilled. During the summer the typhoon would have been probably dissipated in an electric cascade, but in the winter it would probably have its course. So the pilot took his precautions. He took in his sails and set merely the storm-jib, and waited.