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Captain Sand

           Weldon,thewindbeginstoblowsteadilyfromthenorthwest!Godgrantthatitmaykeepon;weshallmakeprogress,andgoodprogress.Weshalldriveintheoffingwithalloursailsset,fromthebrigantinetotheflying-jib!"

           DickSandhadspokenwiththeconfidenceoftheseaman,whofeelsthathestandsonagoodship,ashipofwhoseeverymovementheismaster.Hewasgoingtotakethehelmandcallhiscompanionstosetthesailsproperly,whenMrs.Weldonremindedhimthatheoughtfirsttoknowthe"Pilgrim’s"position.

           Itwas,indeed,thefirstthingtodo.DickSandwentintothecaptain’scabinforthechartonwhichthepositionofthedaybeforewasindicated.HecouldthenshowMrs.Weldonthattheschoonerwasinlatitude43°35’,andinlongitude164°13’,for,inthelasttwenty-fourhours,shehadnot,sotosay,madeanyprogress.

           Mrs.Weldonleanedoverthischart.Shelookedatthebrowncolorwhichrepresentedthelandontherightoftheocean.ItwasthecoastofSouthAmerica,animmensebarrierthrownbetweenthePacificandtheAtlanticfromCapeHorntotheshoresofColumbia.Toconsideritinthatway,thatchart,which,wasthenspreadoutunderhereyes,onwhichwasdrawnawholeocean,gavetheimpressionthatitwouldbeeasytorestorethe"Pilgrim’s"passengerstotheircountry.Itisanillusionwhichisinvariablyproducedononewhoisnotfamiliarwiththescaleonwhichmarinechartsaredrawn.And,infact,itseemedtoMrs.

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Roboto Lora
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