Light rain squalls and brilliant floods of sunshine alternating in the neighborhood of the Marquesas resulted in our witnessing the most remarkable phenomenon of the voyage. We lay becalmed late in the afternoon of a humid hot day, odd jobs were going on all over the ship, iron work was being chipped, service renewed, and Australia and Brenden were rattling down, everyone being busy. Frenchy and I, for we usually worked together at "nice" jobs, were cutting and fitting the canvas for a new mast coat on the mizzen, the old one having cracked and started a leak into the cabin. This was a job that required expert fitting and we were all attention to the work. All hands were so occupied that we did not notice the black rain squall that suddenly came upon us in a puff of cold air. A few minutes of this, while we manned the weather main and lee crojik, to get whatever push there was in it, was followed by the sun breaking through more scorching than before, while the wind, such as was left, was distinctly up and down. A beautiful rainbow formed under the receding cloud, and then we saw that we were near an island, close aboard off the starboard bow, while the rain pall drifted rapidly to port. We came upon it with such suddenness that for a moment most of us lost our heads. "Hard starb'd!" shouted the skipper, and then there was a laugh on deck in which he joined heartily. We were as stationary as the island except for the little way upon us given by the passing rain squall. "Lay aloft and take a look at that." Captain Nichols addressed Frenchy and me, and we skinned up the mizzen while he went to the companion and took the long glass from the rack. That land certainly looked strange! When going over the top, I stopped. Frenchy was ahead of me and almost at the crosstrees. He was looking around in a bewildered sort of a way; he was glancing around the entire horizon, thinking the ship had changed her head. I too looked all about but could see nothing. "What do you make out?" called up the skipper. "Nothing in sight, sir!" "All right. Lay down!" It was a fine mirage; a remarkably clear one. When we got to the deck the "island" had assumed grotesque shapes: the green faded out and the palm trees began to look like young waterspouts. Suddenly the whole picture melted from view. CHAPTER XXV DRIVING SOUTHWARD The mirage served as a subject for conversation during many succeeding days and the captain warned us to be more than ever on the lookout for islands. He seemed to take especial pains with his navigation, testing the patent log repeatedly by use of the chip log, and coming up at all sorts of hours during the day and night when by any chance the lubber line was as much as a quarter point off the course. When on a wind, during this period, he practically lived on deck, turning in "all standing" for short naps during the day.