CHAPTER XI.

  "Boatswain!" "Here, master: what cheer?" "Good: speak to the mariners; fall to 't Yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir." _Tempest._

  As Captain Williams wished to show me some favour for the manner inwhich I had taken care of the brig, he allowed me as much time ashoreas I asked for. I might never see London again; and, understanding Ihad fallen into good company, he threw no obstacle in the way ofmy profiting by it. So careful was he, indeed, as to get one of theconsul's clerks to ascertain who the Mertons were, lest I should becomethe dupe of the thousands of specious rogues with which London abounds.The report was favourable, giving us to understand that the Major hadbeen much employed in the West Indies, where he still held a moderatelylucrative, semi-military appointment, being then in England to settlecertain long and vexatious accounts, as well as to take Emily, his onlychild, from school. He was expected to return to the old, or some otherpost, in the course of a few months. A portion of this I gleaned fromEmily herself, and it was all very fairly corroborated by the account ofthe consul's clerk. There was no doubt that the Mertons were persons ofrespectable position; without having any claims, however, to be placedvery high. From the Major, moreover, I learned he had some Americanconnexions, his father having married in Boston.

  For my part, I had quite as much reason to rejoice at the chance whichthrew me in the way of the Mertons, as they had. If I was instrumentalin saving their lives, as was undeniably the case, they taught me moreof the world, in the ordinary social sense of the phrase, than I hadlearned in all my previous life. I make no pretensions to having seenLondon society; that lay far beyond the reach of Major Merton himself,who was born the son of a merchant, when merchants occupied a much lowerposition in the English social scale than they do to-day, and hadto look to a patron for most of his own advancement. But, he was agentleman; maintained the notions, sentiments, and habits of the caste;and was properly conscious of my having saved his life when it was ingreat jeopardy. As for Emily Merton, she got to converse with mewith the freedom of a friend; and very pleasant it was to hear prettythoughts expressed in pretty language, and from pretty lips. I couldperceive that she thought me a little rustic and provincial; but I hadnot been all the way to Canton to be brow-beaten by a cockney girl,however clever and handsome. On the whole--and I say it without vanity,at this late day--I think the impression left behind me, among thesegood people, was favourable. Perhaps Clawbonny was not without itsinfluence; but, when I paid my last visit, even Emily looked sorrowful,and her mother was pleased to say they should all miss me much. TheMajor made me promise to hunt him up, should I ever be in Jamaica, orBombay; for one of which places he expected to sail himself, with hiswife and daughter, in the course of a few months. I knew he had hadone appointment, thought he might receive another, and hoped everythingwould turn out for the best.

  The Crisis sailed on her day; and she went to sea from the Downs, a weeklater, with a smacking southerly wind. Our Philadelphians turned outa noble set of fellows; and we had the happiness of beating an Englishsloop-of-war, just as we got clear of the channel, in a fair trial ofspeed. To lessen our pride a little, a two-decker that was going to theMediterranean, treated us exactly in the same manner, only three dayslater. What made this last affair more mortifying, was the fact thatMarble had just satisfied himself, and all hands, that, a sloop-of-warbeing the fastest description of vessel, and we having got the betterof one of them, it might be fairly inferred we could outsail the wholeBritish navy. I endeavoured to console him, by reminding him that"the race was not always to the swift." He growled out some sort of ananswer, denouncing all sayings, and desiring to know out of what book Ihad picked up that nonsense.

  I have no intention of dwelling on every little incident that occurredon the long road we were now travelling. We touched at Madeira, andlanded an English family that went there for the benefit of an invalid;got some fruit, fresh meat and vegetables, and sailed again. Our nextstopping-place was Rio, whither we went for letters from home, thecaptain being taught to expect them. The ship's letters were received,and they were filled with eulogiums on our good conduct, having beenwritten after the arrival of _la Dame de Nantes;_ but great was mydisappointment on finding there was not even a scrawl for myself.

  Our stay at Rio was short, and we left port with a favourable slant ofwind, running as far north as 50 deg., in a very short time. As we drew nearto the southern extremity of the American continent, however, wemet with heavy weather and foul winds. We were now in the month thatcorresponds to November in the northern hemisphere, and had to doubleThe Horn at that unpropitious season of the year, going westward. Thereis no part of the world of which navigators have given accounts soconflicting, as of this celebrated passage. Each man appears to havedescribed it as he found it, himself, while no two seem to have foundit exactly alike. I do not remember to have ever heard of calms offCape Horn; but light winds are by no means uncommon, though tempests areundoubtedly the predominant characteristic. Our captain had alreadybeen round four times, and he held the opinion that the season made nodifference, and that it was better to keep near the land. We shapedour course accordingly for Staten Land, intending to pass through theStraits of Le Maire and hug the Horn, as close as possible, in doublingit. We made the Falkland Islands, or West Falkland rather, just as thesun rose, one morning, bearing a little on our weather-quarter, with thewind blowing heavily at the eastward. The weather was thick, and, whatwas still worse, there was so little day, and no moon, that it wasgetting to be ticklish work to be standing for a passage as narrowas that we aimed at. Marble and I talked the matter over, betweenourselves, and wished the captain could be persuaded to haul up, andtry to go to the eastward of the island, as was still possible, with thewind where it was. Still, neither of us dared propose it; I, on accountof my youth, and the chief-mate, as he said, on account of "the oldfellow's obstinacy." "He likes to be poking about in such places,"Marble added, "and is never so happy as when he is running round theocean in places where it is full of unknown islands, looking for sandalwood, and beche-la-mar! I'll warrant you, he'll give us a famous time ofit, if he ever get us up on the North-West Coast." Here the consultationterminated, we mates believing it wiser to let things take their course.

  I confess to having seen the mountains on our weather-quarter disappear,with melancholy forebodings. There was little hope of getting anyobservation that day; and to render matters worse, about noon, thewind began to haul more to the southward. As it hauled, it increased inviolence, until, at midnight, it blew a gale; the commencement of such atempest as I had never witnessed in any of my previous passages at sea.As a matter of course, sail was reduced as fast as it became necessary,until we had brought the ship down to a close-reefed main-top-sail, thefore-top-mast staysail, the fore-course, and the mizen-staysail. Thiswas old fashioned Canvass; the more recent spencer being then unknown.

  Our situation was now far from pleasant. The tides and currents, in thathigh latitude, run with great velocity; and, then, at a moment when itwas of the greatest importance to know precisely where the ship was, wewere left to the painful uncertainty of conjecture, and theoriesthat might be very wide of the truth. The captain had nerve enough,notwithstanding, to keep on the larboard tack until daylight, in thehope of getting in sight of the mountains of Terra del Fuego. No one,now, expected we should be able to fetch through the Straits; but itwould be a great relief to obtain a sight of the land, as it wouldenable us to get some tolerably accurate notions of our position.Daylight came at length, but it brought no certainty. The weather wasso thick, between a drizzling rain, sea-mist and the spray, that it wasseldom we could see a league around us, and frequently not half a mile.Fortunately, the general direction of the eastern coast of Terra delFuego, is from north-west to south-east, always giving us room to wareoff shore, provided we did not unexpectedly get embarrassed in some oneof the many deep indentations of that wild and inhospitable shore.

  Captain Williams showed great steadin
ess in the trying circumstances inwhich we were placed. The ship was just far enough south to render itprobable she could weather Falkland Islands, on the other tack, could werely upon the currents; but it would be ticklish work to undertake sucha thing, in the long, intensely dark nights we had, and thus run therisk of finding ourselves on a lee shore. He determined, therefore, tohold on as long as possible, on the tack we were on, expecting to getthrough another night, without coming upon the land, every hour nowgiving us the hope that we were drawing near to the termination of thegale. I presume he felt more emboldened to pursue this course by thecircumstance that the wind evidently inclined to haul little by little,more to the southward, which was not only increasing our chances oflaying past the islands, but lessened the danger from Terra del Fuego.

  Marble was exceedingly uneasy during that second night. He remained ondeck with me the whole of the morning watch; not that he distrustedmy discretion in the least, but because he distrusted the wind and theland. I never saw him in so much concern before, for it was his habit toconsider himself a timber of the ship, that was to sink or swim with thecraft.

  "Miles," said he, "you and I know something of these 'bloody currents,'and we know they take a ship one way, while she looks as fiercely theother as a pig that is dragged aft by the tail. If we had run down the50th degree of longitude, now, we might have had plenty of sea-room, andbeen laying past the Cape, with this very wind; but, no, the old fellowwould have had no islands in that case, and he never could be happywithout half-a-dozen islands to bother him."

  "Had we run down the 50th degree of longitude," I answered, "we shouldhave had twenty degrees to make to get round the Horn; whereas, couldwe only lay through the Straits of Le Maire, six or eight of those verysame degrees would carry us clear of everything."

  "Only lay through the Straits of Le Maire, on the 10th November, or whatis the same thing in this quarter of the world, of May, and withless than nine hours of day-light! And such day-light, too! Why, ourNewfoundland fogs, such stuff as I used to eat when a youngster anda fisherman, are high noon to it! Soundings are out of the questionhereabouts; and, before one has hauled in the deep-sea, with all itsline out, his cut-water may be on a rock. This ship is so weatherly anddrags ahead so fast, that we shall see _terra firma_ before any one hasa notion of it. The old man fancies, because the coast of Fuego trendsto the north-west, that the land will fall away from us, as fast as wedraw towards it. I hope he may live long enough to persuade all handsthat he is right!"

  Marble and I were conversing on the forecastle at the time, our eyesturned to the westward, for it was scarcely possible for him to look inany other direction, when he interrupted himself, by shoutingout--"hard up with the helm--spring to the after-braces, my lads--manmizen-staysail downhaul!" This set everybody in motion, and the captainand third-mate were on deck in a minute. The ship fell off, as soon aswe got the mizen-staysail in, and the main-topsail touching. Gatheringway fast, as she got the wind more aft, her helm threw her stern up,and away she went like a top. The fore-topmast staysail-sheet wastended with care, and yet the cloth emitted a sound like the report ofa swivel, when the sail first filled on the other tack. We got thestarboard fore-tack forward, and the larboard sheet aft, by twotremendously severe drags, the blocks and bolts seeming fairly toquiver, as they felt the strains. Everything succeeded, however, andthe Crisis began to drag off from the coast of Terra del Fuego, of acertainty; but to go whither, no one could precisely tell. She headedup nearly east, the wind playing about between south-and-by-east, andsouth-east-and-by-south. On that course, I own I had now great doubtwhether she could lay past the Falkland Islands, though I felt persuadedwe must be a long distance from them. There was plenty of time before usto take the chances of a change.

  As soon as the ship was round, and trimmed by the wind on the othertack, Captain Williams had a grave conversation with the chief-mate, onthe subject of his reason for what he had done. Marble maintained he hadcaught a glimpse of the land ahead--"Just as you know I did of la Damede Nantes, Captain Williams," he continued, "and seeing there was notime to be lost, I ordered the helm hard up, to ware off shore." Idistrusted this account, even while it was in the very process of comingout of the chief mate's mouth, and Marble afterwards admitted to me,quite justly; but the captain either was satisfied, or thought itprudent to seem so. By the best calculations I afterwards made, Isuppose we must have been from fifteen to twenty leagues from theland when we wore ship; but, as Marble said, when he made his privateconfessions, "Madagascar was quite enough for me, Miles, withoutbreaking our nose on this sea-gull coast; and there may be 'bloodycurrents' on this side of the Cape of Good Hope, as well as on theother. We've got just so much of a gale and a foul wind to weather, andthe ship will do both quite as well with her head to the eastward, aswith her head to the westward."

  All that day the Crisis stood on the starboard tack, dragging throughthe raging waters as it might be by violence; and just as night shut inagain, she wore round, once more, with her head to the westward. Sofar from abating, the wind increased, and towards evening we found itnecessary to furl our topsail and fore-course. Mere rag of a sail as theformer had been reduced to, with its four reefs in, it was a delicatejob to roll it up. Neb and I stood together in the bunt, and never didI exert myself more than on that occasion. The foresail, too, was aserious matter, but we got both sails in without losing either. Just asthe sun set, or as night came to increase the darkness of that gloomyday, the fore-topmast-staysail went out of the bolt-rope, with a reportthat was heard all over the ship; disappearing in the mist, like a clouddriving in the heavens. A few minutes later, the mizen-staysail washauled down in order to prevent it from travelling the same road. Thejerks even this low canvass occasionally gave the ship, made her tremblefrom her keel to her trucks.

  For the first time, I now witnessed a tempest at sea. Gales, and prettyhard ones, I had often seen; but the force of the wind on this occasion,as much exceeded that in ordinary gales of wind, as the force of thesehad exceeded that of a whole-sail breeze. The seas seemed crushed, thepressure of the swooping atmosphere, as the currents of the air wenthowling over the surface of the ocean, fairly preventing them fromrising; or, where a mound of water did appear, it was scooped up andborne off in spray, as the axe dubs inequalities from the log. In lessthan an hour after it began to blow the hardest, there was no veryapparent swell--the deep breathing of the ocean is never entirelystilled--and the ship was as steady as if hove half out, her loweryard-arms nearly touching the water, an inclination at which theyremained as steadily as if kept there by purchases. A few of us werecompelled to go as high as the futtock-shrouds to secure the sails, buthigher it was impossible to get. I observed that when I thrust out ahand to clutch anything, it was necessary to make the movement in sucha direction as to allow for lee-way, precisely as a boat quarters thestream in crossing against a current. In ascending it was difficult tokeep the feet on the ratlins, and in descending, it required a strongeffort to force the body down towards the centre of gravity. I make nodoubt, had I groped my way up to the cross-trees, and leaped overboardmy body would have struck the water, thirty or forty yards from theship. A marlin-spike falling from either top, would have endangered noone on deck.

  When the day returned, a species of lurid, sombre light was diffusedover the watery waste, though nothing was visible but the ocean and theship. Even the sea-birds seemed to have taken refuge in the caverns ofthe adjacent coast, none re-appearing with the dawn. The air was fullof spray, and it was with difficulty that the eye could penetrate as farinto the humid atmosphere as half a mile. All hands mustered on deck, asa matter of course, no one wishing to sleep at a time like that. As forus officers, we collected on the forecastle, the spot where danger wouldfirst make itself apparent, did it come from the side of the land. Itis not easy to make a landsman understand the embarrassments of oursituation. We had had no observations for several days, and had beenmoving about by dead reckoning, in a part of the ocean where the tidesrun like a mill-
tail, with the wind blowing a little hurricane. Evennow, when her bows were half submerged, and without a stitch of canvassexposed, the Crisis drove ahead at the rate of three or four knots,luffing as close to the wind as if she carried after-sail. It wasMarble's opinion that, in such smooth water, do all we could, the vesselwould drive towards the much-dreaded land again, between sun and sun ofthat short day, a distance of from thirty to forty miles. "Nor is thisall, Miles," he added to me, in an aside, "I no more like this 'bloodycurrent,' than that we had over on the other side of the pond, when webroke our back on the rocks of Madagascar. You never see as smooth wateras this, unless when the wind and current are travelling in the samedirection." I made no reply, but there all four of us, the captain andhis three mates, stood looking anxiously into the vacant mist on ourlee-bow, as if we expected every moment to behold our homes. A silenceof ten minutes succeeded, and I was still gazing in the same direction,when by a sort of mystic rising of the curtain, I fancied I saw abeach of long extent, with a dark-looking waste of low bottom extendinginland, for a considerable distance. The beach did not appear tobe distant half a knot, while the ship seemed to glide along it, ascompared with visible objects on shore, at a rate of six or eight milesthe hour. It extended, almost in a parallel line with our course, too,as far as could be seen, both astern and ahead.

  "What a strange delusion is this!" I thought to myself, and turned tolook at my companions, when I found all looking, one at the other, as ifto ask a common explanation.

  "There is no mistake here," said captain Williams, quietly. "That is_land_, gentlemen."

  "As true as the gospel," answered Marble, with the sort of steadinessdespair sometimes gives. "What is to be done, sir?"

  "What _can_ be done, Mr. Marble?--We have not room to ware, and, ofthe two, there seems, so far as I can judge more sea-room ahead thanastern."

  This was so apparent, there was no disputing it. We could still see theland, looking low, chill, and of the hue of November; and we couldalso perceive that ahead, if anything, it fell off a little towards thenorthward, while astern it seemingly stretched in a due line with ourcourse. That we passed it with great velocity, too, was a circumstancethat our eyes showed us too plainly to admit of any mistake. As the shipwas still without a rag of sail, borne down by the wind as she had beenfor hours, and burying to her hawse-holes forward, it was only to aracing tide, or current of some sort, that we could be indebted for ourspeed. We tried the lead, and got bottom in six fathoms!

  The captain and Marble now held a serious consultation; That the shipwas entering some sort of an estuary was certain, but of what depth, howfar favoured by a holding ground, or how far without any anchorage atall, were facts that defied our inquiries. We knew that the land calledTerra del Fuego was, in truth, a cluster of islands, intersectedby various channels and passages, into which ships had occasionallyventured, though their navigation had never led to any other resultsthan some immaterial discoveries in geography. That we were entering oneof these passages, and under favourable circumstances, though so purelyaccidental, was the common belief; and it only remained to look out forthe best anchorage, while we had day-light. Fortunately, as we droveinto the bay, or passage, or what ever it was, the tempest liftedless spray from the water, and, owing to this and other causes, theatmosphere gradually grew clearer. By ten o'clock, we could see fullya league, though I can hardly say that the wind blew less fiercely thanbefore. As for sea, there was none, or next to none; the water being assmooth as in a river.

  The day drew on, and we began to feel increased uneasiness at thenovelty of our situation. Our hope and expectation were to find someanchorage; but to obtain this it was indispensable also to find alee. As the ship moved forward, we still kept the land in view, on ourstarboard hand, but that was a lee, instead of a weather shore; thelast alone could give our ground-tackle any chance, whatever, in sucha tempest. We were drawing gradually away from this shore, too, whichtrended more northerly, giving us additional sea-room. The fact that wewere in a powerful tide's way, puzzled us the most. There was but onemode of accounting for the circumstance. Had we entered a bay, thecurrent must have been less, and it seemed necessary there should besome outlet to such a swift accumulation of water. It was not the mererising of the water, swelling in an estuary, but an arrow-like glancingof the element, as it shot through a pass. We had a proof of this lastfact, about eleven o'clock, that admitted of no dispute. Land was seendirectly ahead, at that hour, and great was the panic it created. Asecond look, however, reassured us, the land proving to be merely arocky islet of some six or eight acres in extent. We gave it a berth,of course, though we examined closely for an anchorage near it, as weapproached. The islet was too low and too small to make any lee, nor didwe like the looks of the holding-ground. The notion of anchoring therewas consequently abandoned; but we had now some means of noting ourprogress. The ship was kept a little away, in order to give this islanda berth, and the gale drove her through the water at the rate of sevenor eight knots. This, however, was far from being our whole speed, thetide sweeping us onward at a furious rate, in addition. Even CaptainWilliams thought we must be passing that rock at the rate of fifteenknots!

  It was noon, and there was no abatement in the tempest, no change inthe current, no means of returning, no chance of stopping; away wewere driven, like events ruled by fate. The only change was the gradualclearing up of the atmosphere, as we receded from the ocean, and gotfarther removed from its mists and spray. Perhaps the power of the galehad, in a small degree, abated, by two o'clock, and it would have beenpossible to carry some short sail; but there being no sea to injure us,it was unnecessary, and the ship continued to drive ahead, under barepoles. Night was the time to dread.

  There was, now, but one opinion among us, and that was this:--we thoughtthe ship had entered one of the passages that intersect Terra del Fuego,and that there was the chance of soon finding a lee, as these channelswere known to be very irregular and winding. To run in the night seemedimpossible; nor was it desirable, as it was almost certain we should becompelled to return by the way we had entered, to extricate ourselvesfrom the dangers of so intricate a navigation. Islands began to appear,moreover, and we had indications that the main passage itself, wasbeginning to diminish in width. Under the circumstances, therefore, itwas resolved to get everything ready, and to let go two anchors, as soonas we could find a suitable spot. Between the hours of two and four, theship passed seventeen islets, some of them quite near; but they affordedno shelter. At last, and it was time, the sun beginning to fall verylow, as we could see by the waning light, we saw an island of someheight and size ahead, and we hoped it might afford us a lee. Thetide had changed too, and that was in our favour. Turning to windward,however, was out of the question, since we could carry no sail, and thenight was near. Anchor, then, we must, or continue to drive onward inthe darkness, sheered about in all directions by a powerful adversecurrent. It is true, this current would have been a means of safety, byenabling us to haul up from rocks and dangers ahead, could we carry anycanvass; but it still blew too violently for the last. To anchor, then,it was determined.

  I had never seen so much anxiety in Captain Williams's countenance,as when he was approaching the island mentioned. There was still lightenough to observe its outlines and shores, the last appearing bold andpromising. As the island itself may have been a mile in circuit, it madea tolerable lee, when close to it. This was then our object, and thehelm was put to starboard as we went slowly past, the tide checking ourspeed. The ship sheered into a sort of roadstead--a very wild one itwas--as soon as she had room. It was ticklish work, for no one couldtell how soon we might hit a rock; but we went clear, luffing quite nearto the land, where we let go both bowers at the same instant. The ship'sway had been sufficiently deadened, by throwing her up as near the windas she could be got, and there was no difficulty in snubbing her. Thelead gave us seven fathoms, and this within pistol-shot of the shore. Weknew we were temporarily safe. The great point was to ascertain howthe ve
ssel would tend, and with how much strain upon her cables. Toeverybody's delight, it was found we were in a moderate eddy, that drewthe ship's stern from the island, and allowed her to tend to the wind,which still had a fair range from her top-sail yards to the trucks.Lower down, the tempest scuffled about, howling and eddying, andwhirling first to one side, and then to the other, in a way to prove howmuch its headlong impetuosity was broken and checked by the land. It isnot easy to describe the relief we felt at these happy chances. Itwas like giving foothold to some wretch who thought a descent of theprecipice was inevitable.

  The ship was found to ride easily by one cable, and the hands were sentto the windlass to heave up the other anchor, as our lead told us, wehad rocks beneath us, and the captain was afraid of the chafing. Thelarboard-bower anchor was catted immediately, and there it was leftsuspended, with a range of cable overhauled, in readiness to let go at amoment's notice. After this, the people were told to get their suppers.As for us officers, we had other things to think of. The Crisiscarried a small quarter-boat, and this was lowered into the water, thethird-mate and myself manned its oars, and away we went to carry thecaptain round the ship, in order that he might ascertain the soundings,should it be necessary to get under way in the night. The examinationwas satisfactory, on all points but one; that of the holding-ground; andwe returned to the vessel, having taken good care to trust ourselves inneither the wind nor the current. An anchor-watch was set, with a mateon deck, four hours and four hours, and all hands turned in.

  I had the morning watch. What occurred from seven o'clock (the captainkeeping the dog-watches himself,) until a few minutes before four, Icannot tell in detail, though I understood generally, that the windcontinued to blow in the same quarter, though it gradually diminished inviolence, getting down to something like a mere gale, by midnight. Theship rode more easily; but, when the flood came in, there was no longeran eddy, the current sucking round each side of the island in a veryunusual manner. About ten minutes before the hour when it was my regularwatch on deck, all hands were called; I ran on deck, and found the shiphad struck adrift, the cable having parted. Marble had got the vessel'shead up to the wind, under bare poles as before, and we soon began toheave in the cable. It was found that the mischief had been done bythe rocks, the strands being chafed two-thirds through. As soon as thecurrent took the vessel's hull with force, the cable parted. We lost ouranchor, of course, for there was no possible way of getting back to theisland at present, or until the ebb again made.

  It wanted several hours of day, and the captain called a council. Hetold us, he made no doubt that the ship had got into one of the Terradel Fuego passages, guided by Providence; and, as he supposed we mustbe almost as far south as Staten Land, he was of opinion we had madean important discovery! Get back we could not, so long as the wind heldwhere it was, and he was disposed to make sail, and push the examinationof the channel, as far as circumstances would allow. Captain Williamshad a weakness on this point, that was amiable and respectable perhaps,but which hardly comported with the objects and prudence of atrading ship-master. We were not surprised, therefore, at hearing hissuggestion; and, in spite of the danger, curiosity added its impulses toour other motives of acquiescing. We could not get back as the wind thenwas, and we were disposed to move forward. As for the dangers of thenavigation, they seemed to be lessening as we advanced, fewer islandsappearing ahead, and the passage itself grew wider. Our course, however,was more to the southward bringing the ship close up by the wind, oncemore.

  The morning promised to be lighter than we had found the weather forseveral days, and we even experienced some benefit from the moon. Thewind, too, began to back round to the eastward again, as we approachedthe dawn; and we got the three top-sails, close-reefed, the fore-course,and a new fore-top-mast stay-sail, on the ship. At length dayappeared, and the sun was actually seen struggling among dark masses ofwild-looking, driving clouds. For the first time since we entered thosenarrow waters, we now got a good look around us. The land could be seenin all directions.

  The passage in which we found the Crisis, at sunrise on the morning ofthe second of these adventurous days, was of several leagues in width;and bounded, especially on the north, by high, precipitous mountains,many of which were covered with snow. The channel was unobstructed;and not an island, islet, or rock, was visible. No impediment to ourproceeding offered, and we were still more encouraged to push on. Thecourse we were steering was about south-south-west, and the captainpredicted we should come out into the ocean to the _westward_ of theStraits of Le Maire, and somewhere near the Cape itself. We shouldunquestionably make a great discovery! The wind continued to back round,and soon got to be abaft the beam. We now shook our reefs out, one afteranother, and we had whole topsails on the vessel by nine o'clock. Thiswas carrying hard, it must be owned; but the skipper was determined tomake hay while the sun shone. There were a few hours, when I thinkthe ship went fifteen knots by the land, being so much favoured bythe current. Little did we know the difficulties towards which we wererushing!

  Quite early in the day, land appeared ahead, and Marble began to predictthat our rope was nearly run out. We were coming to the bottom of adeep bay. Captain Williams thought differently; and when he discovereda narrow passage between two promontories, he triumphantly predicted ournear approach to the Cape. He had seen some such shape to the mountainsinland, in doubling the Horn, and the hill-tops looked like oldacquaintances. Unfortunately we could not see the sun at meridian,and got no observation. For several hours we ran south-westerly, in apassage of no great width, when we came to a sudden bend in our course,which led us away to the north-west. Here we still had the tide with us,and we then all felt certain that we had reached a point where the ebbmust flow in a direction contrary to that in which we had found it, inthe other parts of the passage. It followed, that we were now halfwaythrough to the ocean, though the course we were steering predicted asinuous channel. We were certainly not going now towards Cape Horn.

  Notwithstanding the difficulties and doubts which beset us, CaptainWilliams packed on the ship, determined to get ahead as fast as hecould, while there was light. It no longer blew a gale, and the wind washauling more to the southward again. It soon got to be right aft, andbefore sunset it had a little westing in it. Fortunately, it moderated,and we set our main-sail and top-gallant-sails. We had carried a lowerand top-mast studding-sails nearly all day. The worst feature in oursituation, now, was the vast number of islands, or islets, we met. Theshore on each side was mountainous and rude, and deep indentations wereconstantly tempting us to turn aside. But, rightly judging that the setof the tide was a lair index to the true course, the captain stood on.

  The night that followed was one of the most anxious I ever passed. Wewere tempted to anchor a dozen times, in some of the different bays, ofwhich we passed twenty; but could not make up our minds to risk anothercable. We met the flood a little after sunset, and got rid of it beforemorning. But the wind kept hauling, and at last it brought us fairly ona taut bow-line; under top-gallant-sails, however. We had come too farto recede, or now would have been the time to turn round, and retraceour steps. But we hoped every moment to reach some inclination south,again, that would carry us into the open sea. We ran a vast many chancesof shipwreck, passing frightfully near several reefs; but the same goodProvidence which had so far protected us, carried us clear. Never was Iso rejoiced as when I saw day returning.

  We had the young ebb, and a scant wind, when the sun rose next day. Itwas a brilliant morning, however, and everybody predicted an observationat noon. The channel was full of islands, still, and other dangerswere not wanting; but, as we could see our way, we got through them allsafely. At length our course became embarrassed, so many large islands,with passages between them, offering on different sides. One headland,however, lay before us; and, the ship promising to weather it, we heldon our way. It was just ten o'clock as we approached this cape, and wefound a passage westward that actually led into the ocean! All handsgave three cheers
as we became certain of this fact, the ship tacking assoon as far enough ahead, and setting seaward famously with the tide.

  Captain Williams now told us to get our quadrants, for the heavens werecloudless, and we should have a horizon in time for the sun. He wasanxious to get the latitude of our discovery. Sure enough, it so fellout, and we prepared to observe; some predicting one parallel, someanother. As for the skipper himself, he said he thought we were still tothe eastward of the Cape; but he felt confident that we had come out tothe westward of Le Maire. Marble was silent; but he had observed, andmade his calculations, before either of the others had commenced thelast. I saw him scratch his head, and go to the chart which lay on thecompanionway. Then I heard him shout--

  "In the Pacific, by St. Kennebunk!"--he always swore by this piousindividual when excited--"We have come through the Straits of Magellanwithout knowing it!"