But a close shave and a narrow escape were nothing new to the _Spray_.
The waves doffed their white caps beautifully to her in the strait that day before the southeast wind, the first true winter breeze of the season from that quarter, and here she was out on the first of it, with every prospect of clearing Cape Pillar before it should shift.

So it turned out; the wind blew hard, as it always blows about Cape Horn, but she had cleared the great tide-race off Cape Pillar and the Evangelistas, the outermost rocks of all, before the change came.

I remained at the helm, humoring my vessel in the cross seas, for it was rough, and I did not dare to let her take a straight course.

It was necessary to change her course in the combing seas, to meet them with what skill I could when they rolled up ahead, and to keep off when they came up abeam.
On the following morning, April 14, only the tops of the highest mountains were in sight, and the _Spray_, making good headway on a northwest course, soon sank these out of sight.

"Hurrah for the _Spray_!" I shouted to seals, sea-gulls, and penguins; for there were no other living creatures about, and she had weathered all the dangers of Cape Horn.