We,
meanwhile, lay off the low, palm-fringed beach, our crew lying on
their oars, or giving way just enough to keep the boat's head to
the breakers. The mate and myself sat in the stern sheets, looking
shoreward for the signal. The night was intensely black. Perhaps
for this reason never before had I seen the phosphorescence of a
tropical sea so strongly marked. From the great open beyond,
luminous crests and plumes of pale fire lifted themselves, ghost-
like, at our bows, sank, swept by us with long, shimmering,
undulating trails, broke on the beach in silvery crescents, or
shattered their brightness on the black rocks of the promontory.
The whole vast sea shone and twinkled like another firmament,
against which the figures of our men, sitting with their faces
toward us, were outlined darkly. The grim, set features of our
first mate, sitting beside me, were faintly illuminated. There was
no sound but the whisper of passing waves against our lap-streak,
and the low, murmuring conversation of the men. I had my face
toward the shore.
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