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The white gulls were in the valleys of the sea. I wish colour could be built by words. I wish I could speak colour to myself in the dark. I can never fill my eyes full enough of the colour of the sea, nor my ears of the crying of the seagulls. I am most greedy of these things, and take no thought for the morrow, so that if my morrow dawns darkly I have nothing stored away to comfort me.
Through that central essential London reach I drove, and X2 bored her nose under the foam regardless of it all like a black hound going through reeds on what trail even I who made her cannot tell. And in this reach, too, one first meets the seagulls and is reminded of the sea.
Languidly the water heaved, languidly the white seagulls floated over it. "I should like to give that fat fellow one in the neck," thought Gusev, gazing at the stout Chinaman, with a yawn. He dozed off, and it seemed to him that all nature was dozing, too.
It was the `disperse. Hi, presto! As if by magic, the imposing array of `sucking bluejackets' whom I had just been gazing upon with a sort of personal admiration from the fact of my being one of their number, an admiration which was tempered by a slight feeling of awe of the discipline that controlled them, melted away almost noiselessly, like those Arabs who `folded their tents' according to the poem, the boys being all in their bare feet, and their patter along the deck and down the hatchways not making any sound above a faint shuffling; and soon this was drowned by the eldritch screeching of our friends the seagulls circling round on the wing in their wonted manner, and poising themselves anon in mid-air above the ship, looking down to see whether it was dinner-time yet aboard, and there was a chance of any stray scraps being chucked over the side from the `gashing-tub, or waste butt in which the refuse of our meals was thrown on the lower deck.
Tiny seagulls, like specks of spray, wheeled above the line of surf. Their crying seemed larger than they. Far away the coast reached out, and melted into the morning, the tussocky sandhills seemed to sink to a level with the beach. Mablethorpe was tiny on their right.
It seemed like a patch of snow that had survived the rigours of the English summer, but suddenly it rose as if blown by the wind and came towards us in tiny flakes of white that turned to seagulls. They sailed high above us uttering that querulous cry that seems to have in it all the unsatisfied hunger of the sea. In this splendid spaciousness the familiar forms seem incredibly diminutive.
But behold, somewhere out yonder the pasture was lost in high sea-waves; ships with bulging sails replaced the curve of the cattle's sides, and instead of bending necks of sheep, there were seagulls swooping down upon the foamy waves. As the incarnation of this dual life of sea and land, the rock stands. It also is both of the sea and the land.
"I know her, certainly; as far as one can be said to know oneself. My unmarried name was Mildare." "You don't say so! Lord, how funny!" The seagulls fishing in the shallows beyond the foam-line, rise up affrighted by the shrill peal of triumphant laughter with which Lessie makes her discovery. "Ha, ha, ha! Talk of a situation!... On the boards I've never seen one to touch it!"
Thus I learned that the man animal long ago knocked Young Gratitude on the head, heaved him overboard into a leaky gig, and left him behind to ogle the seagulls. He is a healthy pirate, this man animal, accustomed with great complacency to maroon the trustful stowaway when he comes to nose about the cargo of his brig, or thrusts his pleading in between the cutthroat and his pleasant sins.
With horror-struck eyes he saw him sink deeper into the quicksand; and then, impelled by what power he knew not, he advanced again towards the sand to meet his fate. But as his more forward foot began to sink he heard again the cries of the seagulls which seemed to restore his benumbed faculties.
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