“How do ye like this sea fog?” asked a voice at the boys’ rear, and Bahama Bill appeared, wrapped in an oilskin jacket.  “It puts me in mind of a fog I onct struck off the coast o’ Lower Californy.  We was in it fer four days an’ it was so thick ye could cut it with a cheese knife.  Why, sir, one day it got so thick the sailors went to the bow an’ caught it in their hands, jess like that!” He made a grab at the air.  “The captain had his little daughter aboard an’ the gal went out on deck an’ got lost an’ we had to feel around in that fog nearly an hour afore we found her, an’ then, sure as I’m a standin’ here, she was next to drowned an’ had to be treated jess like she had been under water.”

“How long ago was that?” asked Tom, poking the other boys in the ribs.

“Seven years ago, this very summer.”

“I thought so, Bill, for that very summer I was at Fort Nosuch, in Lower California.  I remember that fog well.  One of the walls of the fort had fallen down and the commander was afraid the desperadoes were going to attack him.  So he had the soldiers go out, gather in the fog, and build another wall with it.  It made a fine defence, in fact, it was simply out of sight,” concluded the fun-loving Rover.

“Say, you—­” began Bahama Bill.  “You—­er—­you—­say, I can’t say another word, I can’t!  The idee o’ building a wall o’ fog!  Why, say—­”

What the old tar wanted to say, or wanted them to say, will never be known, for at that instant came a loud cry from the bow.  Almost immediately came a crash, and the Rainbow quivered and backed.  Then came another crash, and the old sailor and the boys were hurled flat on the deck.

CHAPTER XVII

A MISHAP IN THE FOG

“We have struck another vessel!”

“We are sinking!”

“How far are we from land?”

These and other cries rang out through the heavy fog, as the two crashes came, followed, a few seconds later, by a third.

Captain Barforth had left the steam yacht in charge of the first mate and was on the companionway going below.  With two bounds he was on deck and running toward the bow at top speed.

“What was it?  Have we a hole in the bow?” he questioned, of the frightened lookouts, who had been sent spinning across the slippery deck.

“Couldn’t make out, captain—­it was something black,” said one lookout.  “Black and square like.”

“I think it was a bit of old wreckage,” said the other.  “Anyway, it wasn’t another vessel, and it was too dark for a lumber raft.”

“Is it out of sight?”

It was, and though all strained their eyes they could not make out what had been struck, nor did they ever find out.

From the deck the captain made his way below, followed by Mr. Rover, who was anxious to learn the extent of the injuries.  In the meantime the ladies and girls had joined the boys on the deck, and the latter began to get out the life preservers.