The ocean would be like shining glass beneath a vertical shower of the sun's rays that, at times, rendered the deck almost unendurable. Awnings were stretched and for hours and even days the Wanderer would lie almost motionless, except for the impalpable swell from which the bosom of the sea is never entirely free.
One dull, damp morning, when the decks were slippery with moisture and a curtain of mist veiled everything beyond a hundred yards, Ralph, who was in the foretop on the lookout, fancied that he detected a sound somewhat different from the usual noises surrounding a vessel even in a calm.
They were nearing the land, as the captain's last reckoning showed, yet soundings taken not half an hour previous, had discovered no bottom at a depth of several hundred feet. Ralph called to a sailor below to ask the second mate to come forward.
"Well, what now, Granger?" demanded Duff from the main deck.
Ralph had hardly explained, before the mate sprang up the rigging to the lad's side. The trained ear of the officer instantly divined what might be the matter.
"Down with you, Ralph," said he, hurrying to the deck himself. "Pipe up all hands and shorten sail!" he shouted to the boatswain, then emerging from the forecastle. "Lively now!"
The schooner was under full canvas, with the purpose of making the most of what little air might be stirring. A moment before, the most profound repose was reigning, but with the shrill call that instantly rang out, all was changed to a scene of the most intense activity.
Men came tumbling up to join the watch on deck in lowering two of the jibs, and reefing a third, while the great fore and aft sails were reduced to less than half their size in a twinkling.
Orders came sharp and fast, three seamen in each top were hastily lowering and lashing the topsails, when the sound heard by Ralph, and which had rapidly increased to a sputtering roar, was split as it were by a crash of thunder. The fog melted away like a dissolving dream, showing beyond the burst of sunlight, a coppery cloud that swept the ocean to windward, driving before it a line of hissing foam.
By this time captain and first mate were up. The Wanderer lay without headway, though bobbing slowly as a slight whiff of air stirred the flattened mainsail.