e 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.

Ere long a silver gray light began to dispel the gloom. The two silent
watchers first saw it overhead, and the vast dome of day swiftly widened
over the vexed sea. The aftermath of the storm spread a low, dense cloak
of vapor all round. The wind had fallen so greatly that they could hear
the song of the rigging. Soon they could distinguish the outlines of the
heavy rollers near at hand, and Courtenay believed that the ship, in her
passage, encountered in the water several narrow bands of a bright red
color. If this were so, he knew that the phenomenon was caused by the
prawn-like Crustacea which sailors call "Whale-food," a sure sign of deep
water close to land, and, further, an indication that the current was
still flowing strongly, while the force of the sea must have been broken
many miles to westward.

Suddenly he turned to Walker.

"Do you think you could shin up to the masthead?" he asked.

"I used to be able to climb a bit, sir."

"Well, try the foremast. Up there I am fairly certain you can see over
this bank of mist. Don't get into trouble. Come back if you feel you
can't manage it. If you succeed, take the best observations possible and
report."

Courtenay was becoming anxious now. If he dared let go the wheel he
would have climbed the mast himself. Walker set about his mission in a
business-like manner. He threw off his thick coat and boots, and went
forward. Half-way up the mast there was a rope ladder for the use of the
sailors when adjusting pulleys.

The rest of the journey was not difficult for an athletic man, and Walker
was quickly an indistinct figure in the fog. He gained the truck all
right, and instantly yelled something. Courtenay fancied he said:

"My God! We-ah on the wocks!"

Whatever it was, Walker did not wait, but slid downward with such speed
that it was fortunate the rigging barred his progress.

And then, even while Courtenay was shouting for some explanation, a great
black wall rose out of the deep on the port bow. It was a pinnacle rock,
high as the ship's masts, but only a few feet wide at sea level, and the
_Kansas_ sped past this ugly monitor as though it were a buoy in a
well-marked channel.

Courtenay heard the sea breaking against it. The ship cou