[An Iceland Fisherman by Pierre Loti]@TWC D-Link book
An Iceland Fisherman

CHAPTER I--THE PLAYTHING OF THE STORM
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And they furthermore relied upon the protection of that china Virgin, which had voyaged forty years to Iceland, and so often had danced the dance of this day, smiling perpetually between her branches of artificial flowers.
Generally speaking, they could not see far around them; a few hundred yards off, all seemed entombed in the fearfully big billows, with their frothing crests shutting out the view.

They felt as if in an enclosure, continually altering shape; and, besides, all things seemed drowned in the aqueous smoke, which fled before them like a cloud with the greatest rapidity over the heaving surface.

But from time to time a gleam of sunlight pierced through the north-west sky, through which a squall threatened; a shuddering light would appear from above, a rather spun-out dimness, making the dome of the heavens denser than before, and feebly lighting up the surge.

This new light was sad to behold; far-off glimpses as they were, that gave too strong an understanding that the same chaos and the same fury lay on all sides, even far, far behind the seemingly void horizon; there was no limit to its expanse of storm, and they stood alone in its midst! A tremendous tumult arose all about, like the prelude of an apocalypse, spreading the terror of the ultimate end of the earth.

And amidst it thousands of voices could be heard above, shrieking, bellowing, calling, as from a great distance.


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