150 
A HARD CHOICE. 
surf of the dreaded “ lee shore” looming upon the misty 
horizon, and warning you of the necessity of “ holding 
your own” against the gale, while friendly miles of space 
yet lie between you and their fatal dangers. Imagine 
yourself watching the strained canvas and the complain- 
ing spar, the hauling gale, the heavy dive into the green 
seas, and the distant land, which, as the gale hauls, is 
fast changing into the dreaded “lee shore.” Imagine 
yourself at the commencement of a dark and stormy 
night, with the position of your ship but poorly defined 
upon an unreliable chart, suddenly called upon to run 
her through a narrow passage, before the gale, while yet 
its direction enabled you to do so, or remain “ hove to” 
with the strong probability of being wrecked on the 
rocks before morning. Imagine yourself in circum- 
stances similar to these, and you can readily appreciate 
our feelings as the shades of such a dark and stormy 
night closed around us and left us to choose between 
those two evils. 
Wq had scarcely squared away when the weather, 
which had been overcast and threatening for some days, 
came on very thick and heavy, and combined with un- 
known currents, want of observations, and doubtful 
charts, to render our position perilous in the extreme. 
We had been several days without a glance at any celes- 
tial body when we kept away, and the consequence was 
that we did not very well know where we were running to 
at such a grand rate : we might soon find ourselves on a 
pile of rocks for what we knew; so we wisely hove to 
under a close-reefed maintopsail, and with just enough 
steam on to keep the old tub from falling off into the 
