Norway in summer," answered McNab, "but at the south end of it here there's a little--specially when the weather is thick. Ay, I see it's comin'."
The peculiar way in which the Captain said this caused the others to turn their eyes to windward, where it was very evident that something was coming, for the sky was black as ink, and the sea under it was ruffled with cold white foam.
"Stand by the clew-lines and halyards," roared the Captain.
The men, who were now all assembled on deck, sprang to obey. As they did so a squall came hissing down on the weather-quarter, and burst upon the vessel with such fury that for a moment she reeled under the shock like a drunken man, while the spray deluged her decks, and the wind shrieked through the rigging.
But this was too violent to last. It soon passed over and the gale blew more steadily, driving the Snowflake over the North Sea like a seamew.
That evening the mountains of Norway rose to view. About the time that this occurred the sky began to clear towards the north-west and soon after a white line of foam was seen on the horizon right ahead. This was the ocean beating on the great army of islands, or skerries, that line the west coast of Norway from north to south.
"Hurrah for old Norway!" shouted Fred Temple with delight, when he first observed the foam that leaped upon these bare rocky islets.
"It seems to me that we shall be wrecked," said Grant gravely. "I do not see an opening in these tremendous breakers, and if we can't get through them, even a landsman could tell that we shall be dashed to pieces."
"Why not put about the ship and sail away from them?" suggested Sorrel, looking round with a face so yellow and miserable that even the Captain was almost forced to smile.
"Because that is simply impossible," said Fred Temple.
Poor Sam groaned and looked down at his dog, which sat trembling on the deck between his feet, gazing up in its master's face sadly--at least so it is to be supposed; but the face of Tittles, as well as the expression thereof, was invisible owing to hair.
"Is there an opening, Captain?" inquired Fred in a low, serious tone.
"Oo ay, no fear o' that," replied the Captain.
There was, indeed, no fear of that, for as the schooner approached the islands, numerous openings were observed. It also became evident that the gentlemen had mistaken the distance from the broken water, for they were much longer of reaching the outer skerries than they had expected, and the foam, which at first appeared like a white line, soon grew into immense masses, which thundered on these weather-worn rocks with a deep, loud, continuous roar, and burst upwards in great spouts like white steam many yards into the air.
"Captain, are the islands as numerous everywhere along the coast as they are here?" said Fred.
"'Deed ay, an' more," answered the Captain, "some places ye'll sail for fifty or sixty miles after getting among the skerries before reachin' the main."
They were now within a hundred yards of the islands, towards a narrow channel, between two of which the Captain steered. Every one was silent, for there was something awful in the aspect of the great dark waves of the raging sea, as they rolled heavily forward and fell with crash after crash in terrific fury on the rocks, dashing themselves to pieces and churning the water into foam, so that the whole sea resembled milk.
To those who were unaccustomed to the coast, it seemed as if the schooner were leaping forward to certain destruction; but they knew that a sure hand was at the helm, and thought not of the danger but the sublimity of the scene.
"Stand by the weather-braces," cried McNab.
The schooner leaped as he spoke into the turmoil of roaring spray. In ten seconds she was through the passage, and there was a sudden and almost total cessation of heaving motion. The line of islands formed a perfect breakwater, and not a wave was formed, even by the roaring gale, bigger than those we find on such occasions in an ordinary harbour. As isle after isle was passed the sea became more and more smooth, and, although the surface was torn up and covered with foam, no great rollers heaved the vessel about. The tight little craft still bent over to the blast, but she cut through perfectly flat water now.
A delightful feeling of having come to the end of a rough voyage filled the hearts of all on board. Sam Sorrel raised his head, and began to look less yellow and more cheerful. Tittles began to wag the stump of his miserable tail, and, in short, every one began to look and to feel
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