But,
rightly judging that the set of 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. We
were tempted to anchor a dozen times, in some of the different bays,
of which we passed twenty; but could not make up our minds to risk
another cable. We met the flood a little after sunset, and got rid of
it before morning. But the wind kept hauling, and at last it brought
us fairly on a taut bow-line; under top-gallant-sails, however. We
had come too far to recede, or now would have been the time to turn
round, and retrace our 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 chances of shipwreck, passing frightfully near several
reefs; but the same good Providence which had so far protected us,
carried us clear. Never was I so rejoiced as when I saw day returning.
We had the young ebb, and a scant wind, when the sun rose next day. It
was a brilliant morning, however, and everybody predicted an
observation at noon. The channel was full of islands, still, and other
dangers were not wanting; but, as we could see our way, we got through
them all safely. At length our course became embarrassed, so many
large islands, with passages between them, offering on different
sides.
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