ht it is!"

"No poetry about this, is there, Songbird?" returned Dick, grimly.

"Hardly," said the poet, yet a few minutes later he began softly:

"A dreadful fog came out of the sea,
And made it as misty as it could be.
The deck was wet, the air was damp--"

"It was bad enough to give you a cramp!" finished up Tom, who had come
up. "Beautiful weather for drying clothes or taking pictures," he went
on. "By the way, I haven't used my new camera yet. I must get it out
as soon as the sun shines again."

"And I must get out my camera," said Songbird. "I have a five by seven
and I hope to take some very nice pictures when we get down among the
islands."

"How do ye like this sea fog?" asked a voice at the boys' rear, and
Bahama Bill appeared, wrapped in an oilskin jacket. "It puts me in
mind of a fog I onct struck off the coast o' Lower Californy. We was
in it fer four days an' it was so thick ye could cut it with a cheese
knife. Why, sir, one day it got so thick the sailors went to the bow
an' caught it in their hands, jess like that!" He made a grab at the
air. "The captain had his little daughter aboard an' the gal went out
on deck an' got lost an' we had to feel around in that fog nearly an
hour afore we found her, an' then, sure as I'm a standin' here, she
was next to drowned an' had to be treated jess like she had been under
water."

"How long ago was that?" asked Tom, poking the other boys in the ribs.

"Seven years ago, this very summer."

"I thought so, Bill, for that very summer I was at Fort Nosuch, in
Lower California. I remember that fog well. One of the walls of the
fort had fallen down and the commander was afraid the desperadoes were
going to attack him. So he had the soldiers go out, gather in the fog,
and build another wall with it. It made a fine defence, in fact, it
was simply out of sight," concluded the fun-loving Rover.

"Say, you--" began Bahama Bill. "You--er--you--say, I can't say
another word, I can't! The idee o' building a wall o' fog! Why, say--"

What the old tar wanted to say, or wanted them to say, will never be
known, for at that instant came a loud cry from the bow. Almost
immediately came a crash, and the _Rainbow_ quivered and backed. Then
came another crash, and the old sailor and the boys were hurled flat
on the deck.

CHAPTER XVII

A MISHAP IN THE FOG

"We have struck another vessel!"

"We are sinking!"

"How far are we from land?"

These and other cries