“Keep a bright look-out there, forward,” sang out Shafto every now and then, in a clear ringing voice, which kept the watch forward on the alert.
“Hark!” said Willy; “I fancy I heard singing.”
“You heard the creaking yards against the masts, perhaps,” said Shafto.
“No, I am certain it is singing,” exclaimed Willy; “listen!”
Harry and his companion stopped in their walk; even Harry could not help confessing that he heard sweet sounds coming over the water. “Some emigrant ship, perhaps, bound out to Auckland,” he observed; “the passengers are enjoying themselves on deck, unwilling to retire to their close cabins. Sounds travel a long distance over the calm waters. She is on our beam, I suspect; but we must take care not to run into each other, in case she should be more on the bow than I suppose.” He hailed the forecastle to learn if the look-out could see anything. “Nothing in sight,” was the answer. “Keep a bright look-out, then,” he shouted. “Ay, ay, sir,” came from for’ard.
Soon after this the fog lifted. Far away on the starboard hand the dim outline of a tall ship appeared standing across their course. “She will pass under our stern if she keeps as she is now steering,” observed Harry; “the voices we heard must have come from her.”
The stranger approached, appearing like some vast phantom floating over the ocean, with her canvas spread on either hand to catch the light wind. “A sail on the starboard beam,” shouted the look-out, as he discovered her. It appeared as if she would pass within easy hail, when, just as Harry Shafto had told Willy to get a speaking-trumpet, she appeared to melt into a thin mist.
“What has become of her?” exclaimed Willy, feeling somewhat awe-struck.
“She has run into a bank of fog which we had not perceived,” said Shafto; “I will hail her;” and taking the speaking-trumpet, he shouted out, “What ship is that?” No answer came. Again he shouted, “This is Her Majesty’s ship ‘Ranger.’” All was silent. “Surely I cannot have been deceived,” he remarked; “my hail would have been answered if it had been heard.” Willy declared that he heard shouts and laughter, but Harry told him that was nonsense, and that undoubtedly the stranger was much further off than he had supposed her to be.
Before the watch was out, Harry had to turn the hands up to shorten sail; a strong breeze was blowing, increasing every instant in violence. Before morning the “Ranger” was ploughing her way through the ocean under close-reefed topsails, now rising to the summit of a sea, now plunged into the trough below. It was Willy’s first introduction to anything like a gale of wind.