ously named. The one that is farthest south
contains the cape itself, which is marked by the ragged pyramid of rock
already mentioned; placed there by nature, a never-tiring sentinel of the
war of the elements. Behind this cluster of the Hermits it was that
Stimson advised his officer to take refuge against the approaching gale,
of which the signs were now becoming obvious and certain. Roswell's
motive, however, for listening to such advice, was less to find a shelter
for his schooner than to get rid of Daggett. For the gale he cared but
little, since he was a long way from the ice, and could stretch off the
land to the southward into a waste of waters that seems interminable.
There are islands to the southward of Cape Horn, and a good many of them
too, though none very near. It is now known, also, by means of the toils
and courage of various seamen, including those of the persevering and
laborious Wilkes, the most industrious and the least rewarded of all the
navigators who have ever worked for the human race in this dangerous and
exhausting occupation, that a continent is there also; but, at the period
of which we are writing, the existence of the Shetlands and Palmer's Land
was the extent of the later discoveries in that part of the ocean. After
pacing the quarter-deck a few minutes, when he quitted the forecastle as
mentioned, Roswell Gardiner again went forward among the men.

"You are quite sure that this high peak is the Horn, Stimson?" he
observed, inquiringly.

"Sartain of it, sir. There's no mistaking sich a place, which, once seen,
is never forgotten."

"It agrees with the charts and our reckoning, and I may say it agrees with
our eyes also. Here is the Pacific Ocean, plain enough, Mr. Hazard."

"So I think, sir, We are at the end of Ameriky, if it _has_ an end
anywhere. This heavy long swell is an old acquaintance, though I never was
in close enough to see the land, hereabouts, before."

"It is fortunate we have one trusty hand on board who can stand pilot.
Stimson, I intend to go in and anchor, and I shall trust to you to carry
me into a snug berth."

"I'll do it, Captain Gar'ner, if the weather will permit it," returned the
seaman, with an unpretending sort of confidence that spoke well for his
ability.

Preparations were now commenced in earnest, to come to. It was time that
some steady course should be adopted, as the wind was getting up, and the
schooner was rapidly approaching the land. In half