lso the Gulf of St. Matias and
the mighty Gulf of St. George. Hoping that she might go clear of the
destructive tide-races, the dread of big craft or little along this
coast, I gave all the capes a berth of about fifty miles, for these
dangers extend many miles from the land. But where the sloop avoided
one danger she encountered another. For, one day, well off the
Patagonian coast, while the sloop was reaching under short sail, a
tremendous wave, the culmination, it seemed, of many waves, rolled
down upon her in a storm, roaring as it came. I had only a moment to
get all sail down and myself up on the peak halliards, out of danger,
when I saw the mighty crest towering masthead-high above me. The
mountain of water submerged my vessel She shook in every timber and
reeled under the weight of the sea, but rose quickly out of it, and
rode grandly over the rollers that followed. It may have been a minute
that from my hold in the rigging I could see no part of the _Spray's_
hull. Perhaps it was even less time than that, but it seemed a long
while, for under great excitement one lives fast, and in a few seconds
one may think a great deal of one's past life. Not only did the past,
with electric speed, flash before me, but I had time while in my
hazardous position for resolutions for the future that would take a
long time to fulfil. The first one was, I remember, that if the
_Spray_ came through this danger I would dedicate my best energies
to building a larger ship on her lines, which I hope yet to do. Other
promises, less easily kept, I should have made under protest. However,
the incident, which filled me with fear, was only one more test of the
_Spray's_ seaworthiness. It reassured me against rude Cape Horn.

From the time the great wave swept over the _Spray_ until she reached
Cape Virgins nothing occurred to move a pulse and set blood in motion.
On the contrary, the weather became fine and the sea smooth and life
tranquil. The phenomenon of mirage frequently occurred. An albatross
sitting on the water one day loomed up like a large ship; two
fur-seals asleep on the surface of the sea appeared like great whales,
and a bank of haze I could have sworn was high land. The kaleidescope
then changed, and on the following day I sailed in a world peopled by
dwarfs.

[Illustration: Entrance to the Strait of Magellan.]

On February 11 the _Spray_ rounded Cape Virgins and entered the Strait
of Magellan. The scene was again real and