e black hull and huge spars of
the Indiaman gradually lessening in the mist that shut her from our
view. We had touched a chord that bound us to our fellow-men but it was
drawn from our hands, and the unfathomable abyss in which we floated
had swallowed up each human trace, except what was comprised on the
contracted deck of the Lively Polly, where Captain Booden sat glumly
whittling, and Lanky meditatively peered after the disappeared
Marathon, as though his soul and all his hopes had gone with her. The
deck, with its load of cord-wood; the sails and rigging; the
sliding-hutch of the little cuddy; and all the features of the Lively
Polly, but yesterday so unfamiliar, were now as odiously wearisome as
though I had known them for a century. It seemed as if I had never
known any other place.

All that day we floated aimlessly along, moved only by the sluggish
currents, which shifted occasionally, but generally bore us westward
and southward; not a breath of wind arose, and our sails were as
useless as though we had been on dry land. Night came on again, and
found us still entirely without reckoning and as completely "at sea" as
ever before. To add to our discomfort, a drizzling rain, unusual for
the season of the year, set in, and we cowered on the wet deck-load,
more than ever disgusted with each other and the world. During the
night a big ocean steamer came plunging and crashing through the
darkness, her lights gleaming redly through the dense medium as she
cautiously felt her way past us, falling off a few points as she heard
our hail. We lay right in her path, but with tin horns and a wild
Indian yell from the versatile Lanky managed to make ourselves heard,
and the mysterious stranger disappeared in the fog as suddenly as she
had come, and we were once more alone in the darkness.

The night wore slowly away, and we made out to catch a few hours'
sleep, standing "watch and watch" with each other of our slender crew.
Day dawned again, and we broke our fast with the last of the Marathon's
biscuit, having "broken cargo" to eke out our cold repast with some of
the Bolinas butter and eggs which we were taking to a most unexpected
market.

Suddenly, about six o'clock in the morning, we heard the sound of
breakers ahead, and above the sullen roar of the surf I distinctly
heard the tinklings of a bell. We got out our sweeps and had commenced
to row wearily once more, when the fog lifted and before us lay the
blessed land.