hen, as he advanced and the mist
retreated, he saw open water beyond. The weeds extended on either hand
as far as he could see, but they were only a narrow band, and he
hesitated no longer. He felt the canoe graze the bottom once as he
sailed over the weeds. The water was free of sandbanks beyond them, but
he could see large islands looming in several directions.

Glancing behind him he perceived that the faint yellow mist had closed
in and now encircled him. It came with two or three hundred yards, and
was not affected by the wind, rough as it was. Quite suddenly he noticed
that the water on which the canoe floated was black. The wavelets which
rolled alongside were black, and the slight spray that occasionally flew
on board was black, and stained the side of the vessel. This greatly
astonished and almost shocked him; it was so opposite and contrary to
all his ideas about the Lake, the very mirror of purity. He leant over,
and dipped up a little in the palm of his hand; it did not appear black
in such a small quantity, it seemed a rusty brown, but he became aware
of an offensive odour. The odour clung to his hand, and he could not
remove it, to his great disgust. It was like nothing he had ever smelt
before, and not in the least like the vapour of marshes.

By now being some distance from any island, the wavelets increased in
size, and spray flew on board, wetting everything with this black
liquid. Instead of level marshes and the end of the gulf, it appeared as
if the water were deep, and also as if it widened. Exposed to the full
press of the gale, Felix began to fear that he should not be able to
return very easily against it. He did not know what to do. The horrid
blackness of the water disposed him to turn about and tack out; on the
other hand, having set out on a voyage of discovery, and having now
found something different to the other parts of the Lake, he did not
like to retreat. He sailed on, thinking to presently pass these
loathsome waters.

He was now hungry, and indeed thirsty, but was unable to drink because
he had no water-barrel. No vessel sailing on the Lake ever carried a
water-barrel, since such pure water was always under their bows. He was
cramped, too, with long sitting in the canoe, and the sun was
perceptibly sloping in the west. He determined to land and rest, and
with this purpose steered to the right under the lee of a large island,
so large, indeed, that he was not certain it was not part