Page:Weird Tales Volume 5 Number 2 (1925-02).djvu/112



HERE were few secrets aboard the Kestrel, and her passenger Edward Renwick knew about the imminent typhoon almost as soon as the members of the crew. He had seen a kind of halo about the sun, which became more apparent as the day wore on. That was the first indication, and Captain Hansen had made no secret of its probable meaning. Hansen's noon observations confirmed his own suspicions on the day the halo first appeared, when they were some two hundred miles north of the Paumotus Group. The barometer was falling steadily, and light squalls had come spanking down during the night. Today the sea was smooth and marked with delicate ripples like a marshy millpond. When the swell began late in the afternoon, all precautions had been taken.

Hansen explained the course of a typhoon to Renwick in snatches. He spoke of cross-currents, atmospheric pressure, and various other indications. Renwick gathered that it was the accompanying "revolving air-currents" which wrought the greatest damage to ships caught in these seasonal hurricanes of the South Seas.

Marian, his young wife, appeared unimpressed. She leaned over the rail to windward, her brown hair blowing in the freshening breeze, and Renwick retailed to her what he had gathered from Hansen's bits of nautical science. The sky had taken on a coppery glint which, despite its menace, allured them by its utter strangeness. Beneath, the sea seemed changed. One could no longer look down into its almost fathomless depths. It seemed deadened, obscure.

Everything had been made fast. Hatches were screwed down, lashings were renovated, and the davits examined. It was the provisioning of the three boats which first caused a catch at the girl's heart. Renwick reassured her. This was routine. It was only to save time. It would be an easy matter to reship the stores when the blow was over.

It was nearly nightfall when a heavy cloud-bank appeared out of the northwest, ominous and dreadful, soaring up out of the nothingness on the other side of the horizon like a huge, elongated funnel. It was very clearly marked even in the failing light which soon obscured it. They gazed at it, fascinated; but when they turned away from the rail they turned back to a changed ship. A foreboding of disaster had laid hold