He now felt that he was alone. He had parted from the shore, and from
all the old associations; he was fast passing not only out upon the
water, but out into the unknown future. But his spirit no longer
vacillated; now that he was really in the beginning of his long
contemplated enterprise his natural strength of mind returned. The
weakness and irresolution, the hesitation, left him. He became full of
his adventure, and thought of nothing else.

The south-west breeze, blowing as a man breathes, with alternate rise
and fall, now driving him along rapidly till the water bubbled under the
prow, now sinking, came over his right shoulder and cooled his cheek,
for it was now noon, and the June sun was unchecked by clouds. He could
no longer distinguish the shape of the trees on shore; all the boughs
were blended together in one great wood, stretching as far as he could
see. On his left there was a chain of islands, some covered with firs,
and others only with brushwood, while others again were so low and flat
that the waves in stormy weather broke almost over them.

As he drew near White Horse, five white terns, or sea-swallows, flew
over; he did not welcome their appearance, as they usually preceded
rough gales. The headland, wooded to its ridge, now rose high against
the sky; ash and nut-tree and hawthorn had concealed the ancient graven
figure of the horse upon its side, but the tradition was not forgotten,
and the site retained its name. He had been steering so as just to clear
the promontory, but he now remembered that when he had visited the
summit of the hill, he had observed that banks and shoals extended far
out from the shore, and were nearly on a level with the surface of the
Lake. In a calm they were visible, but waves concealed them, and unless
the helmsman recognised the swirl sufficiently early to change his
course, they were extremely dangerous.