So slow, however, was their approach that we had made
one "leg" across the ground and halfway back before they were
near enough for us to descry the reason of their want of speed.
They had each got a whale alongside, and were carrying every rag
of canvas they could spread, in order to get in with their
prizes.
Our old acquaintance, the CHANCE, was there, the three others
being her former competitors, except those who were disabled,
still lying in Port William. Slowly, painfully they laboured
along, until well within the mouth of the Straits, when, without
any warning, the wind which had been bringing them in suddenly
flew round into the northward, putting them at once in a most
perilous position. Too far within the Straits to "up helm" and
run for it out to sea; not far enough to get anywhere that an
anchor might hold; and there to leeward, within less than a dozen
miles, loomed grim and gloomy one of the most terrific rock-bound
coasts in the world. The shift of wind had placed the CHANCE
farther to leeward than all the rest, a good mile and a half
nearer the shore; and we could well imagine how anxiously her
movements were being watched by the others, who, in spite of
their jealousy of his good luck, knew well and appreciated fully
Paddy's marvellous seamanship, as well as his unparalleled
knowledge of the coast.
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