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Pagina 140 de 416

Autor: Henryk Sienkiewicz

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A gust of wind, rougher than the others, swirled the fog about
him in great ghostly sheets, turning and twisting it like the
clouds of greasy smoke from a fire of wet leaves. The dory rolled
heavily, and Code, losing his balance, sprawled forward on the
fish, the horn flying from his hand overboard as he tried to save
himself.
For a moment only it floated; and then, as he was frantically
swinging the dory to draw alongside, it disappeared beneath the
water with a low gurgle.
The situation was serious. He was unable to attract attention,
and must depend for his salvation upon hearing the horns of the
other dories as they approached the schooner. Rowing hard all the
time, with frequent short pauses, he strained his ears for the
welcome sound.
Sometimes he thought he caught a faint, mellow call; but he soon
recognized that these were deceptions, produced in his ears by
the memory of what he had heard before. Impatiently he rowed on.

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