of the fabled sea serpent, which one looks for
periodically as a transatlantic myth to crop up in dull seasons in the
columns of American newspapers.

"And did you see it too?" I asked; "and Gil Saul's prophecy turns out
true?"

"You shall hear," he answered gravely; "I'm not spinning a yarn, as you
call it, Master Charles; I'm telling you the truth."

"Go on, Jim," said I, to reassure him. "I'm listening, all attention."

"At eight bells that day, another man-of-war come in, bringing an empty
slaver she had taken before she had shipped her cargo. In this vessel
we were able to separate some of the poor wretches packed on board our
Brazilian schooner, and so send them comfortably on to Sierra Leone,
which was what we were waiting to do, as I've told you already; and now
being free to go cruising again, we hove up anchor and made our way down
the coast to watch for another slaver which we had heard news of by the
man-o'-war that came in to relieve us.

"We had a spanking breeze all day, for a wonder, as it generally fails
at noon; but towards the evening, when we had made some eighty miles or
so from the Bights, it fell suddenly dead calm, as if the wind had been
shut off slap without warning. It was bright before, but the moment the
calm came a thick white mist rose around the vessel, just like that
which came just now from seaward, and has hidden the island and Spithead
from view; you see how it's reminded me now of the west coast and the
Niger river, Master Charles, don't you?"

"Ay," said I, "Jim, I see what you were driving at."

"Those thick mists," he continued, "always rise on the shores of Afrikey
in the early mornings--just as there was a thick one when Gil had seen
his ghost, as he said--and they comes up again when the sun sets; but
you never sees 'em when the sun's a-shining bright as it was that
arternoon. It was the rummiest weather I ever see. By and by, the mist
lifted a bit, and then there were clumps of fog dancing about on the
surface of the sea, which was oily and calm, just like patches of trees
on a lawn. Sometimes these fog curtains would come down and settle
round the ship, so that you couldn't see to the t'other side of the deck
for a minute, and they brought a fearful bad smell with them, the very
smell of the lagoons ashore with a dash of the niggers aboard the slave
schooner, only a thousand times worse, and we miles and miles away from
the land. It was most unaccountable, and