t it
generally is during a thunderstorm, or when some electrical disturbance
is impending in the air. Then, the land breeze sprang up again, the
wind, first coming in little puffs and subsequently settling down into a
steady breeze off shore, and the heavy curtain of black vapour that had
previously enveloped us began to drift away to leeward, enabling us
after a bit to see the ship's position and our surroundings--albeit all
was yet wrapped in the semi-darkness of night, as it was close on eleven
o'clock.

The frowning outlines of a big mountain towered up above the vessel's
masts on our left or port bow, hazy and dark and grim, and on the
starboard hand a jutting point of land, evidently a spur of the same
cliff, projected past the _Denver City_ a long way astern, for we could
distinguish the white wash of the sea on the sand at its base; while,
right in front, nearly touching our bowsprit, was a mass of trees, whose
dusky skeleton branches were waved to and fro by the tropical night
breeze, making them appear as if alive, their mournful whishing as they
swayed bearing out this impression.

It seemed, at first glance, that the ship had been driven ashore into a
small land-locked bay, no outlet being to be seen save the narrow
opening between the cliffs astern through which she had been carried by
the wave that stranded us--fortunately, without dashing us on the rocks
on either hand.

As we gazed around in startled wonder, striving to take in all the
details of the strange scene, the misty, brooding vapour lifted still
further, and a patch of sky cleared overhead. Through this opening the
pale moon shone down, illuminating the landscape with her sickly green
light; but she also threw such deep shadows that everything looked weird
and unreal, the perspective being dwarfed here and magnified there to so
great an extent that the ship's masts appeared to touch the stars, while
the men on the fo'c's'le were transformed into giants, their forms being
for the moment out of all proportion to their natural size, as they
craned their necks over the head rail.

Jan Steenbock's voice from the poop at this juncture recalled my
wandering and wondering imagination to the more prosaic and practical
realities of our situation, which quickly put to flight the ghostly
fancies that had previously crowded thick and fast on my mind.

"Vo'c's'le ahoy!" shouted the second-mate, his deep, manly tones at once
putting fresh courage into