_Two_
The edge of the sun touched the horizon and sank below it, out of sight.There were magnificent tints in the sky, and the gently rippling harborwater reflected them in innumerable swirlings of color. The _Esperance_swayed very slightly and very gracefully on the low swells. In minutestwo of the dungareed members of the ship's company got the anchor upwith professional efficiency. One of them went below, and the_Esperance's_ engine began to rumble. Davis casually took the wheel, andthe small yacht began to move toward the open sea while Nick played asalt-water hose on the anchor before lashing it fast. The brief twilightof the tropics transformed itself swiftly into night. Lights winked andglittered ashore and on the water.
Terry felt more than a little absurd. The girl said pleasantly, at hisside, "My name's Deirdre, in case you don't know."
"Mine's Terry, but you do know."
"Naturally!" she said briskly. "I should explain that I'm the ship'scook, and the boys forward aren't professional sailors, and my fatherisn't--"
"Isn't in this business for money," said Terry. "It's strictly forsomething else. And I don't think it's buried treasure or anything likethat."
"Nothing so sensible," she agreed. "Now, if you want to join a watch,you'll do it. If you don't, you won't. The port cabin, the little one,is yours. You are our guest. If you want anything, ask for it. I'm goingbelow to cook dinner."
She left him. He surveyed the deck again, and presently went back towhere Davis sat nonchalantly by the _Esperance's_ wheel. Davis nodded.
"Now that you've, well, joined up," he said meditatively, "I've beentrying to think how to, well, justify all the mystery. Part of it wasDeirdre's idea. She thought it would make our proposition moreinteresting, so you'd be more likely to take it up. But when I thinkabout explaining, I bog down immediately."
Terry sat down. The _Esperance_ drove on. Her bow lifted and dipped andlifted and dipped. The water was no longer nearly smooth. There was thebeginning of a land breeze.
"There's _La Rubia_," said Davis uncomfortably. "You outfitted her withunderwater ears and a radar, at least. Was there anything else?"
"No," said Terry curtly. "Nothing else."
"She catches the devil of a lot of fish," said Davis. He frowned. "Someof them you might call very queer fish. You haven't heard anything aboutthat?"
"No," said Terry. "Nothing."
"I think, then," said Davis, "that I'd better not expose myself toscorn. I'd like to be able to read her skipper's mind, though. But it'spossible he simply thinks he's lucky. And it's possible he's right."
Terry waited. Davis puffed on his pipe. Then he said abruptly, "Anyhowyou're a good man at making gadgets. We'll let it go at that, for thetime being."
The sea became less and less smooth. There were little slapping soundsof waves against the yacht's bow. The muted rumble of her engine was notintrusive. The breeze increased. Davis gave a definite impression ofhaving said all he intended to say for the time being. Terry stirred.
"You want me to build a gadget," he said. "To drive fish. Would you wantto give me some details?"
Davis considered. A few drops of spray came over the _Esperance's_ side.
"N-o-o-o," said Davis. "Not just yet. There's a possibility it will fitin. I'd like you to make one, and maybe it will fit in somewhere. But_La Rubia's_ the best angle we've got so far. There is one gadget I'dgive a lot to have! You know, a depth-finder. It sends a pulse of sounddown to the bottom and times the echo coming back. Very much like radar,in a way. Both send out a pulse and time its return."
Terry nodded. There was no mystery about depth-finders or radars.
"We've got a depth-finder on board," said Davis. "If I sail a straightcourse and keep the depth-finder running, I can make a profile of thesea bottom under me. If I had a row of ships doing the same thing, wecould get profiles and have a relief map of the bottom."
"That's right," agreed Terry.
"What I'd give a lot for," said Davis, "would be a depth-finder thatwould send spot-pulses, like radar does. Aimed sound-pulses. And anarrangement made so it could scan the ocean bottom like radar scans thesky. One boat could make a graph of the bottom in depths and heights,mapping even hummocks and hills underwater. Could something like that bedone?"
"Probably," Terry told him. "It might take a good deal of doing,though."
"I wish you'd think about it," said Davis. "I know a place where I'dlike to use such a thing. It's in the Luzon Deep. I really would like tohave a detailed picture of the bottom at a certain spot there!"
Terry said nothing. He'd been made angry, then mollified, and now hefelt tempted to grow angry again. There was nothing definite in what waswanted of him, after elaborate machinations to get him aboard the_Esperance_. He was disappointed.
"Good breeze," said Davis in a different voice. "We might as well hoistsail and cut off the engine. Take the wheel?"
Terry took the wheel. Davis went forward. Four dungareed figures came upout of the forecastle. The sails went up and filled. The engine stopped.The motion of the boat changed. More spray came aboard, but the movementwas steadier. Davis came back and took the wheel once more.
"I think," he said, "that we're acting in a way to--hm--be annoying. Iought to lay my cards on the table. But I can't. For one thing, Ihaven't drawn a full hand yet. For another, there are some things you'llhave to find out for yourself, in a situation like this."
"Such as--"
"Well," said Davis with a sudden dogged air, "take those _orejas deellos_, for an example. _Ellos_ are supposed to be some sort of beingsat the bottom of the sea who listen to fish and fishermen. It's asuperstition pure and simple. Suppose I said I was investigating thepossibility that there were such--beings. You'd think I was crazy,wouldn't you?"
Terry shrugged.
"What I am interested in," said Davis, "has enough credit behind it forme to get some pretty rare electronic parts from the flattop in harborback yonder. Nick called them by short-wave, they sent the parts ashoreand gave them to Deirdre, and she brought them out to you."
Terry blinked. Then he realized. Of course, that was where just aboutany imaginable component for electronic devices would be found--in theelectronics stores of a flattop! They needed to have such things athand. They'd carry them in store. Davis said drily, "They wouldn'tsupply parts to a civilian who was investigating imaginary gods ordevils. So what I'm bothered with isn't a superstition. Right?"
"Y-yes," agreed Terry.
It was true. The Navy would not stretch regulations for a crackpotcivilian. It was not likely, either, that Horta would have implied sodefinitely that the Philippine Government wanted somebody with Terry'squalifications to go for a cruise on the _Esperance_.
Deirdre put her head up through the after-cabin hatch.
"Dinner is served," she said cheerfully.
"The wheel," said Davis to Terry.
He went forward. All four of the non-professional seamen came with himwhen he returned.
"This is the rest of the gang," said Davis. "You met Nick. The othersare Tony Drake, Jug Bell, and Doug Holmes." He made an embracing gestureas they shook hands in turn. "Harvard, Princeton, Yale--and Nick'sM.I.T. It's your turn at the wheel, Tony."
One of the four took over. The others filed below after Davis and Terry.Terry was silent. Davis had wanted to show that he was beinginformative, and yet he'd said exactly nothing about the interests orthe purpose of the _Esperance's_ complement.
Dinner in the after-cabin was almost as confusing to Terry. Seen atclose range across a table, the four dungareed young men could notpossibly be anything but college undergraduates. They were respectful toDavis as an older man and they tended to be a little cagey about Terry,because he was slightly older than themselves but not an honorarycontemporary. They plainly regarded Deirdre with the warmest possibleapproval.
Conversation began, at first cryptic but suddenly only preposterous.There was an argument about the supposed intelligence of porpoises,based on recent studies of their brain struct
ure. Tony observedprofoundly that without an opposable thumb intelligence could not leadto artefacts, and hence no culture and no great effective intelligencewas possible. Jug denied the meaningfulness of brain structure as anindication of intellect. Intellect would be useless to a creature whichcould neither make nor use a tool. Doug argued hotly that the point wasabsurd. He pointed to spastic children once rated as morons but actuallyhaving high I.Q.'s. They had intellects, though they had been uselessbecause of their inability to communicate. But Nick asserted thatwithout tools they'd have nothing to talk about but food, danger, andwho went where with whom for what. All of which, he observed, needed nobrains.
Davis listened amusedly. Deirdre threw in the suggestion that withouthands or tools an intelligent creature could compose poetry, and Jugprotested that that was nothing to use a brain for--and the talk turnedinto a violent argument about poetry. Doug insisted vehemently that thefinest possible intellects were required for the composition andappreciation of true poetry. Then Davis said, "Tony's still at thewheel."
The argument died down and the crew-cuts devoted themselves to eating,so one of them could get through and relieve him.
Afterward, Davis settled down below to a delicate short-wave tuningprocess to get music from an improbable distance. Deirdre served Tonyhis meal and talked with him while he ate it. Terry went abovedecks andpaced back and forth as the _Esperance_ sailed on through the night.
He couldn't make out anything at all about the crew or the purposebehind the _Esperance's_ chosen task and purpose. He felt dubious aboutthe whole business. Like most technically-minded men, he could becomeabsorbed in a problem, especially if it was a device difficult to designor a design that somehow didn't work. Such things fascinated him. Butthe _Esperance's_ crew was not concerned with a problem like that. Therewas no pattern in their talk or behavior to match the way a technicalmind would go about finding a solution. The problem was bafflinglyvague, yet there _was_ one.
_La Rubia_ was an element in it. Possibly Davis' wistful mention of apartial map of the bottom of the Luzon Deep fitted in somewhere. Davishad spoken of _orejas de ellos_ with some familiarity, but certainly noNavy ship would cooperate in the investigation of a fisherman'ssuperstition in which even fishermen didn't believe any longer. ThePhilippine fishing fleet was modern and efficient. Fishermen usedsubmarine ears without superstitious fears, and if they referred toimaginary _ellos_ it was as an American would say "knock on wood," withno actual belief that it meant anything.
Whatever the _Esperance's_ purpose was, there was nothing mystical aboutit--not if a flattop parted with rare and expensive specialized vacuumtubes to try to help, and the police department of Manila urged Terrytactfully--through Horta--to join the yacht, and no less than a NavyCaptain had named him as someone to be recruited.
Deirdre came abovedecks and replaced Tony at the wheel. The _Esperance_sailed on. A last-quarter moon was now shining low on the easternhorizon. It seemed larger and nearer to the earth than when seen frommore temperate climes. The wake of the yacht glowed in the moonlight.
The wide expanse of canvas made stark contrast between its moonlit topand its shadow on the deck. The only illumination on the ship was thebinnacle lights and the red and green running lights. Deirdre kept the_Esperance_ on course.
Terry went up to where she sat, beside the wheel.
"I've been making guesses," he told her. "Your father.... I believe thathis curiosity has been aroused by something, and he's resolved to trackit down. I strongly suspect that at some time or another he's gottenbored with making money and decided to have some fun."
Deirdre nodded.
"Very good! Almost completely true. But what he's interested in is agood deal more important than fun."
Terry nodded in his turn.
"I suspected that too. And it's rather likely that you've got avolunteer crew instead of a professional one because these young menconsider it a fascinating adventure into the absurd, and because they'llkeep their mouths shut if something turns out to be classifiedinformation."
"My father's doing this strictly on his own!" said Deirdre quickly."There's nothing official about it. There isn't any classifiedinformation about it. This is a private affair from the beginning!"
"But in the end it may turn out to be something else," said Terry.
"Y-yes. We don't know, though. It's impossible to know!It's--ridiculous!"
"And my explanation for your being so mysterious with me is that you andyour father insist that I find out everything for myself because I'dthink it foolish if you told me."
Deirdre did not answer for a moment. There was a movement behind Terry,and Davis came on deck.
"That was good music!" he said pleasedly. "You missed some veryinteresting sounds, Deirdre! You too, Holt."
"He's decided," said Deirdre, "that we're a little bit ashamed of ourenterprise and won't tell him about it for fear he'll simply laugh atus."
Terry protested, "Not at all! Nothing like that!"
"When some forty-odd people have been killed by something inexplicableat one time that we know of," said Davis, "--and we don't know how manyothers have been killed at other times, or may be killed by it in thefuture--I don't think that's a laughing matter."
He surveyed what should be the direction of the land. A light showedthere and vanished, then came on again and vanished. A minute later itshowed and disappeared, then came on again twice. It was very far away.Davis said in a different tone, "We can change course now, Deirdre. Youknow the new one."
The _Esperance's_ bowsprit forsook the star at which it had been aiming.It swung to another. Davis moved about, adjusting the sheets alone. Onthe new heading the yacht heeled over a little more and the waterrushing past her hull had a different sound. The sky seemed larger andmore remote than it ever appears from a city. The yacht's wake streamedbehind her in a trail of bluish brightness. Even the moon was strange.It had the cold enormousness of something very near and menacing. Itlooked as close as when seen through a telescope of moderate power.
The _Esperance_ seemed very lonely on the immense waste of waters.
Next morning, of course, the sense of loneliness was gone. There wasneither land nor any ship in sight, but gulls fluttered and squawkedoverhead, and the waves seemed to leap and gambol in the sunshine. Justbefore the foremast a metal plate in the decking had been lifted up, anda new, stubby, extensible mast rose almost as high as the crosstrees. Atiny basket-like object rotated monotonously at its upper end. It was aradar-bowl, and somehow it was not unusual, except in the manner inwhich it was mounted. Yet, such a collapsible radar mast was reasonableon a sailing yacht with many lines aloft that could be fouled. Anyhow,the radar was concerned with human affairs, and so it was company.
The housekeeping work on the boat was in progress. Doug and Jug scrubbedthe deck. The other crew-cuts gave signs of industry from time to time,appearing and vanishing. Davis smoked tranquilly at the wheel. Terryfelt useless, as well as puzzled.
"Can I do anything?" he asked awkwardly.
"You're your own boss," said Davis.
"Then I might as well see what can be done about that submarinenoisemaker."
"If you feel like it," said Davis, "fine!"
But he did not urge. Terry waited a moment. There was a sort ofcontagion of purposefulness in this eccentric small group on the_Esperance_. They had something they were trying to do, and it seemedimportant to them. But Terry was an outsider and would remain one untilhe became active in their joint effort.
He got out his equipment and materials and spread them out. There was noneed to build a recorder, since there was one among the supplies. Therest wouldn't be unduly difficult. He established a working space andset systematically to work. The task he'd accepted was essentiallysimple. A submarine ear was to pick up underwater sounds. He had tomodify a microphone and enclose it in a water-tight housing, withcertain special features that would make it highly directional. Therecorder would take the pick-up and register it on magnetic tape, whil
eplaying it for simultaneous listening. Then he had to assemble amachine for playing back the taped sounds under water. That required aunit for a submarine horn, to broadcast the amplified sound. It isn'tdifficult to make a sound under water. One can knock two stones togetherunder the surface and a swimmer can hear it a mile or more away. But ahorn to reproduce specific sounds is more difficult to build. It needsextra power. A sound-truck in a city, competing with all the trafficnoises, will turn no more than fifteen watts of electricity into noise.But much more power would be needed to produce a similar volume underwater.
Terry modified the mike into a submarine ear--an _orejas de ellos_. Thenhe began to assemble an audio amplifier to build up the volume of thesounds already taped for re-use under the sea. He had the parts. It wasmostly just finicky labor. He sat cross-legged in the sunshine, not farfrom the _Esperance's_ unusual winch.
Nick came up from below and went aft. He spoke to Davis. Terry couldn'thear what was said, but Davis gave orders.
The _Esperance_ heeled over; away, away over. The four crew-cutsadjusted the sheets for maximum effect of the sails on the new directionof motion. The yacht seemed to tear through the water like a racingboat. Terry had to rescue some of his smaller parts which started forthe scuppers. He looked up. Deirdre said cheerfully, "Our radar pickedup a boat that's probably _La Rubia_ on the way back to Manila. We don'twant her to see us."
Terry blinked.
"Why?"
"We're going to take a look at the spot where we think she catches herfish," said Deirdre. "It's strange enough that she catches so many, butwhat's even stranger is the kind of fish she catches at times."
"How?"
Deirdre shrugged. Then she said irrelevantly, "_La Rubia's_ skipperwould like to have the only radar in the world, as you've reason toknow, and he doesn't think of radars, except his own and possiblecompetitors. But there are lots of others. We're probably a blip onsomebody's radar-screen right now. In fact, we're supposed to be. Sowhen my father got interested in _La Rubia_ and her--catches, he wasable to have somebody notice where she goes every time she slips awayfrom the fishing fleet. And so he was told. It was all quite unofficial,of course."
Terry bent over his task again while the _Esperance_ sped along over theoff-shore swells. There was no land in sight anywhere. An albatrossglided overhead for a time, as if inspecting the _Esperance_ as apossible source of food. When Terry looked for it later it was gone.Once there was a flurry in many wave-flanks, and a small school offlying fish darted out of the sea with hazy, beating fins, and divedback into the sea many yards from where they started.
But nothing of any consequence happened anywhere. Terry fitted andsoldered and tested. By noon he had a rather powerful audio amplifyingunit, set up to magnify any sound the tape-recorder fed into it. Deirdreprepared a meal. The galley of the _Esperance_ was admirably suppliedwith all kinds of food. After the noon meal the yacht changed courseagain to a line which would intersect her original morning course atsome point.
Terry found himself fuming. He'd set to work to make something thatDavis apparently wanted, but his most elementary questions still ranagainst a blank refusal to answer. Both Davis and Deirdre had spoken ofoddities in the catches of _La Rubia_. There could not possibly be anyreason for them to refuse to tell him what they were. Terry workedhimself into irritability, recalling how he volunteered to come on the_Esperance_ but not thinking that he would be treated as someone whowasn't allowed to know what everybody else aboard most certainly did.
In the afternoon there was guitar music down in the forecastle, and Dougcame out and settled himself on the bowsprit with a book of poetry.Presently Nick sat down close by Terry and watched interestedly as heput mysterious-looking electronic elements together intoincomprehensible groups. When he had finished, Terry did not admire hishandiwork. The noisemaking unit came last. The electrical part had to beenclosed, water-tight, with a diaphragm exposed to the water on oneside and its working parts protected from all moisture on the other. Thedevice looked cobbled, but it worked, and made monstrous sounds in theair.
Now he plugged the submarine ear into the recorder. He dropped itoverside and taped the random noises of the sea: the washings of seawater against the _Esperance's_ hull, frequent splashings, and veryfaint, chirping noises from who-knew-what.
"Watch the volume, will you?" Terry pointed out the Indication thatshould not be exceeded. Nick nodded. "I'm going to whack the paddleoverside and see what we get in the way of noise."
Nick hesitated. Then he said uneasily, "Wait a minute."
He went aft to Davis, apparently somnolent at the wheel. Deirdre joinedthe two of them in a seemingly very serious discussion. Then she walkedover to Terry.
"I hate to say it," she told him with evident concern, "but my fatherthinks it would be wiser to try out the paddle in shallow water. Do youmind?"
"Yes," snapped Terry. "I do mind, since I'm not allowed to know thereason for that or anything else."
He put away his tools and the unused parts. He pointed to the machineshe had already built.
"This is what your father wanted, I think. After it's tested I'll askyou to put me ashore."
He went below, where he fretted to himself. But no one came, either toinform him of Davis' reasons, or to tell him to do as he pleased. Hefelt like a child who isn't allowed to play with other children; who isarbitrarily excluded from the purpose and the excitement of his fellows.Thinking in such terms did not make him feel any better. His irritationincreased. The _Esperance_ was engaged in an enterprise that thesepeople considered very much worth doing. He'd joined them to accomplishit, and they wouldn't tell him what it was. He hadn't the temperament tobe content with just following blindly. And somehow the fact thatDeirdre was aboard and a participant in the secret made his exclusion aninsult.
He felt about Deirdre that urgent concern that a man may feel about oneor two, or at most three girls during his whole lifetime. It wasn't aromantic interest, at this stage, but he wanted to look well in hereyes, and he was enormously interested in anything she said and did. Ifhe left the _Esperance_ and ceased to know her, he knew he'd be naggedat by the feeling that he'd made a very bad mistake. He didn't want tostop knowing her. But he refused to be patronized.
He saw an open book on the after-cabin table and glanced restlessly atit. There were three or four photographs and a newspaper clipping stuckinto its pages. The book itself dealt with physics at post-graduatelevels--which meant that it included a good deal about electronics.
Still fuming, Terry glanced at the pictures. The first was of aspherical object made of transparent plastic and probably of small size.It had a number of metallic elements clearly visible through thetransparent case. It looked as if it might be an electronic deviceitself, but there was no sign of lead-in contacts, and the parts insidemade no sense at all. The second and third photographs were of a similaryet slightly different object. The fourth photograph was a picture ofwhat looked like ocean water, taken from a plane. The horizon showed inone corner. The center of the picture was an irregularly-shaped mass ofwhite. On close examination it appeared to be foam. But it looked as ifit were piled up in masses above the surface. If the water around it wasocean--and it was--and the visible crest-lines were of waves--and theywere--that heap of foam must have been hundreds of yards in diameter andpiled many feet high on the surface. Foam does not form in such massesin the open sea. It would not last if it did.
On the margin of this picture a date had been inked--three daysbefore--and a position in degrees of latitude and longitude.
Terry turned to the chart rack. He pulled out a chart and looked up theposition. Someone had made a pencil-dot there. It was close to ThrawnIsland, on the very brink of the Luzon Deep, that incredible submarinechasm in which the entire Himalayan chain could be sunk without showinga single pinnacle above the surface.
He went back to the clipping. It was dated Manila, two years earlier. Itwas an obviously skeptical article on a report made by the crewmen of asailing shi
p that stopped by Manila. Sailing ships are rare enough inmodern times. This ship reported that she had sighted another of her ownkind at sea. The two ships altered course to speak to each other. Andthe one which came into Manila declared that when the other vessel wasno more than two miles away, white foam suddenly appeared on the seajust in front of her. A geyser of unsubstantial white stuff spouted upand spread, shooting up about thirty feet on the water. The bow of theother sailing ship entered the foam patch. And suddenly her bow tilteddownward, her masts swayed forward, and the entire ship vanished intothe white stuff, exactly as if she had sailed over a precipice. She didnot sink. She dropped. She "fell" under water--under the foam--her sailsstill spread. One instant she sailed proudly. The next instant she wasgone.
The position of such an incredible happening was roughly given. It wasalmost exactly the same as the position written on the photograph offoam taken from the air. At the margin of the Luzon Deep.
Terry found that his indignation had evaporated. The reason for it stillremained, but now he wanted to know more about this happening and aboutthe spheres of plastic with those deftly designed but enigmaticinclusions. The plastic objects had a purpose. He wanted to know what.And the news clipping....
Having announced crossly that he would ask to be set ashore as soon asthe fish-driving unit was tested, he was ashamed to take it back. Hestayed below, now angry at himself again. Nobody came below. Deirdre didnot descend to cook. Night fell. Well after nightfall he heard movementson deck, and presently a voice which sounded oddly distant. The_Esperance's_ course changed abruptly. The quality of her motion alteredonce more.
He went abovedecks. Twilight was long over, but the moon was not yet up.Here and there a wave-tip frothed, and blue luminescence appeared. Hereand there a streak of dim blue light could be seen under water, wheresome fish darted. But those dartings were rare. Despite the yacht'sshining wake and the curling wave-tips, the sea was darker than usual.
Nick's voice came from aloft, faint and eerie and seeming to come fromthe stars.
"... farther to port.... Two points ..."
Terry could see the masthead weaving and swaying against the stars, witha small dark silhouette clinging to it: Nick. The yacht began to swing.On one bearing she pounded heavily. The seas could hit her squarely, andthey did. Figures moved swiftly about the deck, loosening sheets ortightening them. Nick's voice again, from overhead.
"Stea-a-a-dy!"
The _Esperance_ ceased to turn. Rushing, pounding water sprayed in theair. The waves splashed upon the hull of the yacht, which was sweepingalong on a quartering wind.
For a while no one talked. Tony stood at the wheel, with Davis nearby,by the binnacle light. Terry could see Davis glancing into the binnacle,then gazing at the horizon ahead, and then aloft, where Nick seemed toswing among low-hanging stars.
"Ri-i-i-ght!" he called from high overhead. "Steady as she goes."
The _Esperance_ sailed on, over the surging seas. Waves came out ofnowhere, leaped beside the yacht and then went by--to nowhere. It washard to believe that the yacht actually moved forward. She seemed tostay perpetually in the one spot. But there was a winding, sinuous wake,and there was froth under her forefoot.
Then a vague brightness appeared on the sea, at the limit of vision. Itspread out more widely as the _Esperance_ approached. Presently it wasclearly visible.
Dead ahead, the beam of the headlight suddenly revealed an incrediblespectacle. Until then there had been just a few flashes in the water,where some fish darted away from the yacht's bulk. But here the entiresurface of the water shone with thousands and thousands of fish. Theywere packed in a sharply delimited circle about a mile wide. When the_Esperance_ got close enough, she hauled up into the wind to look.
From a spot fifty yards ahead, the sea was alive with a million franticdartings of swimming things. They were crowded, packed almostfin-to-fin. And it was not a surface phenomenon only. From the yacht'sdeck the streaks of light were visible deep down, as far as the clearwater would let them be seen. They formed a column of glittering chaos.The vast circle, to an indefinite depth, was packed solid with agitatedfish. At that edge of brightness the thronging creatures were splashingin a mad frenzy. Solid shining shapes leaped crazily from the water.Some leaped again and again, until they reached the spot where theflashes were thickest, and got lost in the multitude of their fellows. Afew escaped to the darker surrounding sea. They seemed to run away instark terror. But those were only a few. The greatest mass of fishmilled crazily inside the circle. There were even porpoises, dartingabout as if frightened beyond all normal behavior, not even trying tofeed on the equally fear-maddened creatures all about them.
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