region, it was dark
and menacing. Such, indeed, is usually the case in that portion of this
globe, which appears to be the favourite region of the storms. Although
the wind was no more than a good breeze, and the ocean was but little
disturbed, there were those symptoms in the atmosphere and in the long
ground-swells that came rolling in from the southwest, that taught the
mariner the cold lessons of caution. We believe that heavier gales of wind
at sea are encountered in the warm than in the cold months; but there is
something so genial in the air of the ocean during summer, and something
so chilling and repulsive in the rival season, that most of us fancy that
the currents of air correspond in strength with the fall of the mercury.
Roswell knew better than this, it is true; but he also fully understood
where he was, and what he was about. As a sealer, he had several times
penetrated as far south as the ne plus ultra of Cook; but it had ever
before been in subordinate situations. This was the first time in which he
had the responsibility of command thrown on himself, and it was no more
than natural that he should feel the weight of this new burthen. So long
as the Sea Lion of the Vineyard was in sight, she had presented a centre
of interest and concern. To get rid of her had been his first care, and
almost absorbing object; but, now that she seemed to be finally thrown out
of his wake, there remained the momentous and closely approaching
difficulties of the main adventure directly before his eyes. Roswell,
therefore, was thoughtful and grave, his countenance offering no bad
reflection of the sober features of the atmosphere and the ocean.

Although the season was that of summer, and the weather was such as is
deemed propitious in the neighbourhood of Cape Horn, a feeling of
uncertainty prevailed over every other sensation. To the southward a cold
mistiness veiled the view, and every mile the schooner advanced appeared
like penetrating deeper and deeper into regions that nature had hitherto
withheld from the investigation of the mariner. Ice, and its dangers, were
known to exist a few degrees farther in that direction; but islands also
had been discovered, and turned to good account by the enterprise of the
sealers.

It was truly a great thing for the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond to have thrown
off her namesake of the Vineyard. It is true both vessels were still in
the same sea, with a possibility of again meeting; but, Ros