Walker, though an engineer, knew enough of navigation to recognize the
apparent impossibility of the captain's being able to steer with any real
knowledge of his surroundings. The wheel-twisting, therefore, savored of
magic; but his orders were to look ahead, and he obeyed.
Soon he thought he could discern an irregular pink crescent, with the
concave side downwards, somewhere in the blackness beyond the bows. He
rubbed his eyes, and said nothing, believing that the unaccustomed strain
of gazing into the dark had affected his sight. But the pink crescent
brightened and deepened, and speedily it was joined by two others,
equally irregular and somewhat lower. Then he could bear the suspense no
longer.
"Captain, d'ye see yon?" he asked, in a voice tremulous with awe.
"Yes. That is the sun just catching the summits of snow-topped hills.
It not only foretells the dawn, but is a sign of fine weather. There are
no clouds over the land, or we should not see the peaks."
Walker began to have a respect for the captain which he had hitherto
extended only to the superintending engineer, an eminent personage who
never goes to sea, but inspects the ship when in port, and draws a fat
salary and various commissions.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145