A SERIES OF FIERCE WILLIWAWS
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lost, and in my thoughts cried, "Is the hand of fate against me, after all, leading me in the end to this dark spot?" I sprang aft again, unheeding the flapping sail, and threw the wheel over, expecting, as the sloop came down into the hollow of a wave, to feel her timbers smash under me on the rocks.
A glimpse of Bandy Point (Punta Arenas) in the Strait of Magellan.
But at the touch of her helm she swung clear of the danger, and in the next moment she was in the lee of the land.
It was the small island in the middle of the bay for which the sloop had been steering, and which she made with such unerring aim as nearly to run it down. Farther along in the bay was the anchorage, which I managed to reach, but before I could
