After he had slept a good way into the next day, he came up again to find the gale still strong and the prospect coloured now with green of wave and snow of foam, blue of sky and snow of winged cloud.

The favourable force was still pushing them onward toward the invisible north star.
It was on the evening of that day that they saw the islands; five or six hilly isles lay in a half-circle.

The schooner entered this bay from the east.

Before they came near the purple hills they had sighted a fleet of island fishing boats, and now, as night approached, all these made also for the same harbour.

The wind bore them all in, they cutting the water before them, gliding round the point of the sand-bar, making their way up the channel of the bay in the lessening light, a chain of gigantic sea-birds with white or ruddy wings.
All around the bay the islands lay, their hills a soft red purple in the light of a clear November evening.