cks--Danger from firebrands--A series of fierce
williwaws--Again sailing westward.

It was the 3d of March when the _Spray_ sailed from Port Tamar direct
for Cape Pillar, with the wind from the northeast, which I fervently
hoped might hold till she cleared the land; but there was no such good
luck in store. It soon began to rain and thicken in the northwest,
boding no good. The _Spray_ reared Cape Pillar rapidly, and, nothing
loath, plunged into the Pacific Ocean at once, taking her first bath
of it in the gathering storm. There was no turning back even had I
wished to do so, for the land was now shut out by the darkness of
night. The wind freshened, and I took in a third reef. The sea was
confused and treacherous. In such a time as this the old fisherman
prayed, "Remember, Lord, my ship is small and thy sea is so wide!" I
saw now only the gleaming crests of the waves. They showed white teeth
while the sloop balanced over them. "Everything for an offing," I
cried, and to this end I carried on all the sail she would bear. She
ran all night with a free sheet, but on the morning of March 4 the
wind shifted to southwest, then back suddenly to northwest, and blew
with terrific force. The _Spray_, stripped of her sails, then bore off
under bare poles. No ship in the world could have stood up against so
violent a gale. Knowing that this storm might continue for many days,
and that it would be impossible to work back to the westward along the
coast outside of Tierra del Fuego, there seemed nothing to do but to
keep on and go east about, after all. Anyhow, for my present safety
the only course lay in keeping her before the wind. And so she drove
southeast, as though about to round the Horn, while the waves rose and
fell and bellowed their never-ending story of the sea; but the Hand
that held these held also the _Spray_. She was running now with a
reefed forestaysail, the sheets flat amidship. I paid out two long
ropes to steady her course and to break combing seas astern, and I
lashed the helm amidship. In this trim she ran before it, shipping
never a sea. Even while the storm raged at its worst, my ship was
wholesome and noble. My mind as to her seaworthiness was put at ease
for aye.

[Illustration: Cape Pillar.]

When all had been done that I could do for the safety of the vessel, I
got to the fore-scuttle, between seas, and prepared a pot of coffee
over a wood fire, and made a good Irish stew. Then, as before and
afterwar