hen the two vessels were half a mile apart a third shot made another hole in our mainsail. Then we entered the fog. It was about us veiling and hiding us in its dense wet gauze.The sudden transition was startling. The moment before we had been leaping through the sunshine the clear sky above us the sea breaking and rolling wide to the horizon and a ship vomiting smoke and fire and iron missiles rushing madly upon us,vans skate. And at once as in an instant's leap the sun was blotted out there was no sky even our mastheads were lost to view and our horizon was such as tear-blinded eyes may see. The gray mist drove by us like a rain. Every woolen filament of our garments every hair of our heads and faces was jeweled with a crystal globule. The shrouds were wet with moisture; it dripped from our rigging overhead; and on the under side of our booms drops of water took shape in long swaying lines which were detached and flung to the deck in mimic showers at each surge of the schooner. I was aware of a pent stifled feeling. As the sounds of the ship thrusting herself through the waves were hurled back upon us by the fog so were one's thoughts,hello kitty vans shoes. The mind recoiled from contemplation of a world beyond this wet veil which wrapped us around. This was the world the universe itself its bounds so near that one felt impelled to reach out both arms and push them back. It was impossible that the rest could be beyond these walls of gray. The rest was a dream no more than the memory of a dream.It was weird strangely weird. I looked at Maud Brewster and knew that she was similarly affected. Then I looked at Wolf Larsen but there was nothing subjective about his state of consciousness. His whole concern was with the immediate objective present. He still held the wheel and I felt that he was timing Time reckoning the passage of the minutes with each forward lunge and leeward roll of the Ghost.'Go for'ard and hard alee without any noise' he said to me in a low voice. 'Clew up the topsails first. Set men at all the sheets. Let there be no rattling of blocks no sound of voices. No noise understand no noise.'When all was ready the word 'Hard alee' was passed forward to me from man to man; and the Ghost heeled about on the port tack with virtually no noise at all. And what little there was- the slapping of a few reef-points and the creaking of a sheave in a block or two- was ghostly under the hollow echoing pall in which we were swathed.We had scarcely filled away it seemed when the fog thinned abruptly and we were again in the sunshine the wide-stretching sea breaking before us to the skyline,where can i buy vans shoes. But the ocean was bare. No wrathful Macedonia broke its surface or blackened the sky with her smoke.Wolf Larsen at once squared away and ran down along the rim of the fog-bank. His trick was obvious. He had entered the fog to windward of the steamer and while the steamer had blindly driven on into the fog in the chance of catching him he had come about and out of his shelter and was now running down to reenter to leeward. Successful in this the old simile of the ne Related articles:

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