On Everything
take in an inch because of the pleasure of it, but she was over-canvased all the same, and I put her ever so little round for fear of a gybe; but the pleasure of it was greater than the fear, and the cordage sang, and it gave me delight to glance over my shoulder at that following rush which chases a small boat always when she presses before a breeze and might poop her if her rider did not know his game. That which had been a long, long sail through the night with an almost silent wake and the bursting of but few bubbles, and next a steady approach before the strong and easy wind, had now become something inspired and exultant, a course which resembled a charge; and the more the sea rose the larger everything became—the boat's career, the land upon which she was determined, and our own minds. while all about us as we urged and raced for shore were the loud noises of the sea.
We ran straight for a point where could be seen the gate to the inland bay; we rounded it, and our entry completed all, for when once we bad rounded the point all fell together; the wind, the heaving of the water, the sounds and the straining of the sheets. In a moment, and less than a moment, we had cut out from us the vision of the sea. a barrier of cliff and hill stood between us and the large horizon. The very lonely slopes of these western mountains rose solemn and enormous all around, and the bay on which we floated, with only just that way which remained after our sharp turning, was quite
20
