The sky shaded down at the sea level to the white of opals; the

sea itself, insolently, inkily blue, drew all about them the

uncompromising wheel of the horizon. Search it as they pleased,

not even the practisect eye of Captain Davis could descry the

smallest interruption. A few filmy clouds were slowly melting

overhead; and about the schooner, as around the only point of

interest, a tropic bird, white as a snowflake, hung, and circled,

and displayed, as it turned, the long vermilion feather of its

tall. Save the sea and the heaven, that was all.

'Who sang out land?' asked Davis. 'If there's any boy playing

funny dog with me, I'll teach him skylarking!'

But Uncle Ned contentedly pointed to a part of the horizon,

where a greenish, filmy iridescence could be discerned floating

like smoke on the pale heavens.

Davis applied his glass to it, and then looked at the Kanaka.

'Call that land?' said he. 'Well, it's more than I do.'

'One time long ago,' said Uncle Ned, 'I see Anaa all-e-same

that, four five hours befo' we come up. Capena he say sun go

down, sun go up again; he say lagoon all-e-same milla.'

'All-e-same WHAT?' asked Davis.

'Milla, sah,' said Uncle Ned.

'Oh, ah! mirror,' said Davis. 'I see; reflection from the lagoon.

Well, you know, it is just possible, though it's strange I never

heard of it. Here, let's look at the chart.'

They went back to the cabin, and found the position of the

schooner well to windward of the archipelago in the midst of a

white field of paper.

'There! you see for yourselves,' said Davis.

'And yet I don't know,' said Herrick, 'I somehow think there's

<<BackPagesTo menuNext>>