A DAY AT SEA
The Sea Eagle was steaming steadily South to her mysterious harbor. The day was a brilliant one and as the afternoon wore on the wind from the Northwest began to blow with fresher force and the white caps began to jump, here, there and everywhere over the broad surface of the ocean, and then slide down on the back of the waves.
There was a good deal of motion on the part of the Sea Eagle now, as she plunged into the waves and threw the spray back over her decks. Both Juarez and Tom proved themselves good sailors, which was just as well for if they had been sea sick together with their other miseries they might have succumbed.
Finally the long afternoon wore away and the time came for supper. The boys being neither flesh, fish or fowl, were not allowed to eat with the crew, and they did not mind in the least. When their rations did arrive, or rather when they went to the ship's galley and got their share, they found the fare not lacking in quality and abundance. There was a heaping plate of Mexican beans, a big hunk of bread and a bowl of hot tea. After the boys had stowed this below in their hatches they felt a hundred per cent better and more fit to meet any fate that might await them.
An hour before sunset a heavy bank of fog began to roll up from the West, soon covering the whole sky with its gracious softness, and decided restfulness, after the glittering blue-diamond beauty of the day.
It is the fogs alone that make the climate of California, especially in the Southern part endurable. Too much sunshine becomes as unbearable as too much cloudiness.
The sea went down, when the fog came up and the waters took on a steely color under their blanket of gray, rolling on, in that monotonous meditation that holds the mystery of forgotten ages in its brooding.
"Here's where you will sleep, boys," said Old Pete, who had been appointed by the Captain to have special charge over their education. "The men won't have you in the fo'castle, and it's pretty crowded there anyway."
"This will suit us, sir," replied Juarez. He did not call him Pop, as he would have on the land. This was the sea and had its own rules and customs, therefore Old Pete received his due of respect. But in his rough way he was not unfriendly towards the boys, for he remembered that they had given him friendly advice, when he was aboard that strange craft, a horse, the night before.
The place where the boys were to sleep was a sort of cubby hole in the bow of the boat, that was roofed over and where anchor chains and other junk was sometimes kept. It was not over four feet high, five in width at the broadest and narrowing to the bow.