The Kraken Wakes

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The nearest iceberg looked firmly grounded. Waves, with the whole fetch of the Atlantic behind them, exploded upon it, just as they would upon solid rock. Further out there were other large bergs, also stranded by the falling tide, and looking like sudden white mountains. Here and there among them smaller ones were still afloat, with the wind and the current driving them slowly up the Channel. That morning there were more, I fancy, than we had ever before seen at one time. I paused to look at them. Blinding white crags in a blue sea.

'I think,' I said, 'that I shall write an account of all this.'

'You mean a long one, about the whole thing? A book?' Phyllis asked.

'Well, I don't suppose it will ever be a printed book, with stiff covers and a cloth binding — but still, a book,' I agreed.

'I suppose a book is still a book, even if no one but the writer and his wife ever reads it,' she said.

'There's a chance that someone else might. I've a feeling it ought to be done. After all, we know as much about the whole thing as anyone — in a general way. The specialists know more about their particular bits, of course, but, between us, we ought to be able to put together quite a picture.'

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