THE PLAYTHING OF THE STORMThe Northern sun had taken another aspect and changed its colour,opening the new day by a sinister morn. Completely free from its veil,it gave forth its grand rays, crossing the sky in fitful flashes,foretelling nasty weather. During the past few days it had been toofine to last. The winds blew upon that swarm of boats, as if to clearthe sea of them; and they began to disperse and flee, like an army putto rout, before the warning written in the air, beyond possibility tomisread. Harder and harder it blew, making men and ships quake alike.
And the still tiny waves began to run one after another and to melttogether; at first they were frosted over with white foam spread outin patches; and then, with a whizzing sound, arose smoke as thoughthey burned and scorched, and the whistling grew louder every moment.
Fish-catching was no longer thought of; it was their work on deck. Thefishing lines had been drawn in, and all hurried to make sail and someto seek for shelter in the fjords, while yet others preferred to roundthe southern point of Iceland, finding it safer to stand for the opensea, with the free space about them, and run before the stern wind.
They could still see each other a while: here and there, above thetrough of the sea, sails wagged as poor wearied birds fleeing; themasts tipped, but ever and anon righted, like the weighted pithfigures that similarly resume an erect attitude when released afterbeing blown down.
The illimitable cloudy roof, erstwhile compacted towards the westernhorizon, in an island form, began to break up on high and send itsfragments over the surface. It seemed indestructible, for vainly didthe winds stretch it, pull and toss it asunder, continually tearingaway dark strips, which they waved over the pale yellow sky, graduallybecoming intensely and icily livid. Ever more strongly grew the windthat threw all things in turmoil.
The cruiser had departed for shelter at Iceland; some fishers aloneremained upon the seething sea, which now took an ill-boding look anda dreadful colour. All hastily made preparations for bad weather.
Between one and another the distance grew greater, till some were lostsight of.
The waves, curling up in scrolls, continued to run after each other,to reassemble and climb on one another, and between them the hollowsdeepened.
In a few hours, everything was belaboured and overthrown in theseregions that had been so calm the day before, and instead of the pastsilence, the uproar was deafening. The present agitation was adissolving view, unconscientious and useless, and quicklyaccomplished. What was the object of it all? What a mystery of blinddestruction it was!
The clouds continued to stream out on high, out of the westcontinually, racing and darkening all. A few yellow clefts remained,through which the sun shot its rays in volleys. And the now greenishwater was striped more thickly with snowy froth.
By midday the /Marie/ was made completely snug for dirty weather: herhatches battened down, and her sails storm-reefed; she bounded lightlyand elastic; for all the horrid confusion, she seemed to be playinglike the porpoises, also amused in storms. With her foresail taken in,she simply scudded before the wind.
It had become quite dark overhead, where stretched the heavilycrushing vault. Studded with shapeless gloomy spots, it appeared a setdome, unless a steadier gaze ascertained that everything was in thefull rush of motion; endless gray veils were drawn along, unceasinglyfollowed by others, from the profundities of the sky-line--draperiesof darkness, pulled from a never-ending roll.
The /Marie/ fled faster and faster before the wind; and time fled also--before some invisible and mysterious power. The gale, the sea, the/Marie/, and the clouds were all lashed into one great madness ofhasty flight towards the same point. The fastest of all was the wind;then the huge seething billows, heavier and slower, toiling after;and, lastly, the smack, dragged into the general whirl. The wavestracked her down with their white crests, tumbling onward in continualmotion, and she--though always being caught up to and outrun--stillmanaged to elude them by means of the eddying waters she spurned inher wake, upon which they vented their fury. In this similitude offlight the sensation particularly experienced was of buoyancy, thedelight of being carried along without effort or trouble, in a springysort of way. The /Marie/ mounted over the waves without any shaking,as if the wind had lifted her clean up; and her subsequent descent wasa slide. She almost slid backward, though, at times, the mountainslowering before her as if continuing to run, and then she suddenlyfound herself dropped into one of the measureless hollows that evadedher also; without injury she sounded its horrible depths, amid a loudsplashing of water, which did not even sprinkle her decks, but wasblown on and on like everything else, evaporating in finer and finerspray until it was thinned away to nothing. In the trough it wasdarker, and when each wave had passed the men looked behind them tosee if the next to appear were higher; it came upon them with furiouscontortions, and curling crests, over its transparent emerald body,seeming to shriek: "Only let me catch you, and I'll swallow youwhole!"But this never came to pass, for, as a feather, the billows softlybore them up and then down so gently; they felt it pass under them,with all its boiling surf and thunderous roar. And so on continually,but the sea getting heavier and heavier. One after another rushed thewaves,............