SAILING TO SYDNEY
The travellers set sail for Sydney in a calm and beautiful afternoon when earth and sea seemed at peace. The sea sparkled in the sunlight as if set in diamonds and the vessel fairly danced over the waters as it sailed out of Bass Strait into the dark waters of the blue Pacific. The afternoon passed quietly and toward evening all gathered on deck to see the sunset, for Australia is noted as the land of wonderful sunsets, and from the sea these can be viewed in all their splendour.
Gold, crimson, yellow, pink, from brilliant to soft, from light to dark, the clouds changed in countless colour schemes, bewilderingly beautiful. The whole sky was a dome of softest rose, then a flaming crimson, then pearly-tinted heliotrope; the sea, too, shone in varying shades of beauty, until all melted and blended into one exquisitely soft shade of deep-toned purple, and into this the smiling stars stole one by one, the countless stars of the southern night, and above all shone the glory of the Southern Cross.
"Oh, Father," whispered Jean, "I have never seen anything so beautiful! Is the sunset always like this in Australia?"
"This was a particularly fine one, daughter, but whenever the sun sets it is a thing worth looking at."
"How quickly it has grown dark after all that splendour," said Mrs. Hume, looking at the sky over which the clouds were passing.
"I don't like the look of the sky," said Mr. Hume. "I'm afraid there is a squall coming."
"Worse than a squall, sir," said a sailor, hurrying by. "It looks to me like a hurricane."
The air had grown suddenly warm and the sky was overhung with heavy clouds, while flashes of lightning blazed across the sky. Suddenly a great waterspout seemed to rise up like an inky-black pillar from sea to sky. The ship tossed about and pitched so badly that it was impossible to keep one's feet and Mr. Hume led his little party to the cabin.
