The canoe held a direct course out to sea the remaining part of the day. This was drawing fast to a close, when there might be perceived, straight over the bows of the canoe, and far, far away, a small dark object that seemed to rest lightly on the horizon, which was, at that moment, illumined by the red rays of the large round sun that was fast sinking behind it.
The head of the canoe was kept direct upon that speck, and the man at the stern seemed to make no more use of his compass.
Such was the rapidity with which the canoe went, borne away, as it was, by the breeze, as well as propelled by the paddles of twelve strong men, that within three hours after sunset, they were close to that which, a short time before, had appeared so small, so shadowy, and so distant.
The object proved to be a low, black, balahoo schooner, whose model, as far as it could be observed by the starlight, was most beautiful. She was built as sharply as a sword, with her bows terminating in the shape of a Gar’s lance, while her stern slanted off in the most graceful proportions.
But the most remarkable part in her build, was her immense and almost disproportioned length, which, combined with her perfectly straight lines, low hull, and the slenderness of her make, gave her the appearance of a large serpent.
Her rigging was of the lightest fashion as two simple shrouds, which supported each mast, and the bowsprit and jibboom stays formed her principal cordage.
There was not a yard, a gaff, or piece of canvass aloft, so that the tall masts remained bare and graceful, shining under their polish. On these accounts, they could not be perceived at any distance, and a boat, discovering the vessel for the first time, would be at a loss to make out what floating object it was.
Her position also, and the manner in which she seemed moored—mastless, as it would appear—was strange and peculiar. She was not swinging to the wind or current, but she rode under a bow and stern anchor, which kept her head directly towards the Dragon’s Mouth, while the rippling waves, that still curled before the gentle night breeze, broke playfully on her side.
“What word?” sounded the hoarse and echoing voice of some one on the deck, as the canoe approached the schooner.