But what he did see was sufficient. It was an evil landscape. It loomed black and forbidding against the background of blue sky, and the sun failed to lighten the aspect. It threatened. The stark desolateness of the place was enhanced by the wild cawing of the gulls and the mournful booming of the sea upon the reef.
Martin was depressed, as by a foreboding of ill fortune. He turned to Rimoa, who was on the yard-arm with him, and spoke with forced lightness—
"A cheerful-looking place, eh, Rimoa?"
The Maori shuddered, and there was fear in his eyes.
"No like!" he said. "This place bad, bad, bad!"
Then, as they bent to their work, the fog-bank suddenly lifted, enveloped them, and hid the black mountain from view.
CHAPTER XIV
OUT OF THE FOG
"No, we'll not go ashore tonight," stated Captain Dabney at supper. "We would only lose ourselves blundering about in this fog. If the stuff is still there, it will keep until tomorrow. In the morning we'll have a try, whether the fog has lifted or not."