ky and the metallic glitter of the
Pacific Ocean. The weary succession of rounded, dome-like hills
obliterated all sense of distance; the rare whaling vessel or still
rarer trader, drifting past, saw no change in these rusty undulations,
barren of distinguishing peak or headland, and bald of wooded crest or
timbered ravine. The withered ranks of wild oats gave a dull procession
of uniform color to the hills, unbroken by any relief of shadow in
their smooth, round curves. As far as the eye could reach, sea and
shore met in one bleak monotony, flecked by no passing cloud, stirred
by no sign of life or motion. Even sound was absent; the Angelus, rung
from the invisible Mission tower far inland, was driven back again by
the steady northwest trades, that for half the year had swept the coast
line and left it abraded of all umbrage and color.

But even this monotony soon gave way to a change and another monotony
as uniform and depressed. The western horizon, slowly contracting
before a wall of vapor, by four o'clock had become a mere cold, steely
strip of sea, into which gradually the northern trend of the coast
faded and was lost. As the fog stole with soft step southward, all
distance, space, character, and locality again vanished; the hills upon
which the sun still shone bore the same monotonous outlines as those
just wiped into space. Last of all, before the red sun sank like the
descending Host, it gleamed upon the sails of a trading vessel close in
shore. It was the last object visible. A damp breath breathed upon it,
a soft hand passed over the slate, the sharp pencilling of the picture
faded and became a confused gray cloud.

The wind and waves, too, went down in the fog; the now invisible and
hushed breakers occasionally sent the surf over the sand in a quick
whisper, with grave intervals of silence, but with no continuous murmur
as before. In a curving bight of the shore the creaking of oars in
their rowlocks began to be distinctly heard, but the boat itself,
although apparently only its length from the sands, was invisible.

"Steady now; way enough!" The voice came from the sea, and was low, as
if unconsciously affected by the fog. "Silence!"

The sound of a keel grating the sand was followed by the order, "Stern
all!" from the invisible speaker.

"Shall we beach her?" asked another vague voice.

"Not yet. Hail again, and all together."

"Ah hoy--oi--oi--oy!"

There were four voices, but the hail appeared