"That's enough. You don't need to mention anybody else. What Wilson
doesn't know about sailing, sponging and fishing isn't worth
knowing."

By noon they were about twenty miles southwest of North-West Cape
and, as the wind had moderated, the reefs were shaken out and the
bow of the _Etta_ pointed due north, straight for Sand-Fly Pass.
The breeze grew less and less, and in two hours had died away
entirely. From the northeast a black, threatening cloud was moving
slowly toward them, while the sails flapped idly as the _Etta_
rolled to a heavy ground swell. The cloud came nearer and grew
blacker, while swirling little tails dropped from it, almost
touching the water, and then suddenly returned to the black mass
above.

"What a funny cloud," said Dick to Captain Tom. "Does it mean a
hurricane?"

"No. This is the hurricane month, but hurricanes always give a day
or two's warning through the barometer and that hasn't changed a
tenth in a week. But this is worse than a hurricane if it hits us.
Those are waterspouts in the making, that you see dropping from the
big cloud, and when one of them gets a good hold on the water you
will see something that you won't forget as long as you live, which
won't be a great while if it hits us," said the captain.

Almost as he spoke a great inverted cone of cloud settled down from
the mass above and touching the surface of the water set it whirling
furiously. The water from the Gulf was lifted skyward, in a column
which constantly grew broader at the base while its pointed top,