That is, we gazed into the silent mystery where we knew the river must be, yet it was like peering into an impenetrable bank of cloud.

There was something awesome about it, for out yonder, within a few yards of us, swung twenty great vessels of war, manned by thousands of fighting men, while not a sound reached us, except the slight creaking of strained cables, or the occasional dash of a wave against some obstruction in the stream; nor could anything be seen, if I except flitting sparks of light glimmering here and there like lost stars, serving to locate the positions of the various ships in their night anchorage.
I felt, rather than saw, the devout priest at my side piously cross himself, and there was a mumbling of his lips in prayer, but I contented myself with searching through the gloom for a glimpse of the towering masts of the "Santa Maria," which must be close at hand.

They remained invisible, shrouded behind the mist cloud.

For one moment I cursed the intense blackness of the night, losing confidence in our venture.

Yet, even as hope failed me, the dull creaking of a nearby cable sounded farther up stream.