"It was all a mistake," he said; "the bill is for the
house next door."
That settled him, for he worried my dreams no more; and it settled
me, too, for I woke up chuckling at the episode. It was three in
the morning. I went up on deck. Henry, the Rapa islander, was
steering. I looked at the log. It recorded forty-two miles. The
Snark had not abated her six-knot gait, and she had not struck
Futuna yet. At half-past five I was again on deck. Wada, at the
wheel, had seen no land. I sat on the cockpit rail, a prey to
morbid doubt for a quarter of an hour. Then I saw land, a small,
high piece of land, just where it ought to be, rising from the water
on the weather-bow. At six o'clock I could clearly make it out to
be the beautiful volcanic cone of Futuna. At eight o'clock, when it
was abreast, I took its distance by the sextant and found it to be
9.3 miles away. And I had elected to pass it 10 miles away!
Then, to the south, Aneiteum rose out of the sea, to the north,
Aniwa, and, dead ahead, Tanna. There was no mistaking Tanna, for
the smoke of its volcano was towering high in the sky. It was forty
miles away, and by afternoon, as we drew close, never ceasing to log
our six knots, we saw that it was a mountainous, hazy land, with no
apparent openings in its coast-line.
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