THE ROARING FORTIES llT 



demonstrated this now as he did many times 

 afterward. He was as skillful a navigator as 

 he was a fearless one. He knew his reckonings 

 were good. He knew that when the squall shut 

 out the world the brig's nose was pointed directly 

 at the center of Unimak Pass. So he did not 

 veer to east or west, or seek to tack back from 

 the dangerous coasts on our bows, but drove the 

 vessel straight upon its course into the blank 

 white wall of mist and snow. 



An hour later the squaii lifted as quickly as 

 it had come. Blue skies and sunshine came back. 

 We found ourselves almost becalmed on a placid 

 sea. To the south lay the outline of a lofty 

 coast. 



A boat-steerer bustled forward. " We are in 

 Behring Sea," he said with a laugh. 



We had shot through the narrow channel 

 without sighting the shores. I have often won- 

 dered just how close to port or starboard death 

 was to us that morning on the black cliffs of 

 XJnimak Pass. 



