[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

CHAPTER XI

AMBR-YM

IT was a miserable little boat in which I sailed from
Noumea. We were to have started on a Monday,
but it was Friday before we got off. The boat was
overloaded. On deck there was a quantity of timber,
also cattle, pigs, sheep and calves, all very seasick
and uncomfortable. The deck was almost on a level
with the water, and even while still inside the reef
occasional waves broke over the gunwale and flooded
the ship. At nightfall we entered the open ocean.
Now the waves began to pour on to the deck from
all sides, and the bow of the vessel dived into the sea
as if it were never going to rise again. The night
was dark, shreds of cloud raced across a steel-grey
sky, while a greenish patch showed the position of
the moon. At the horizon glistened an uncertain
light, but the sea was a black abyss, out of which
the phosphorescent waves appeared suddenly, rolled
swiftly nearer and broke over the ship as if poured
down from above.

I looked on without another thought save that
of pity for the poor sick calves, when the captain
Whispered in my ear that things looked bad, as the
ship‘ was much too heavily loaded. In the darkness

I could see nothing but that the boat was very deep
19x