At daybreak on the morning of September 5th, two of the clippers sighted each other running in for the Lizard; they were about five miles apart, beam and beam, steering on slightly converging courses. There was a strong southerly wind with smooth sea, and both ships were being driven at their utmost speed—a good fifteen knots—their lee scuppers smothered in foam, with the wind well abaft the starboard beam; both were under the same canvas, main skysail, topmast, topgallant, royal, and square lower studdingsails. Neither captain required the example of the other to send his ship along at her best speed—they had been doing that for ninety-eight days and nights. When their signals could be made out these ships proved to be the Ariel and the Taeping. After passing the Lizard the wind moderated, and they raced up channel almost side by side, now one and then the other gaining a slight advantage, but never far apart, and as they passed the various headlands along the coast they presented a spirited marine picture. They were off the pilot station at Dungeness at three o'clock the next morning and burned their blue lights for pilots, who boarded both ships at the same time. With a moderate wind they were now making not more than five or six knots through the water, but the tide was sweeping them along fast. Off the South Foreland the wind slackened again with the rising sun. Here the Ariel held a slight lead and she passed Deal at 8 o'clock, followed by the Taeping eight minutes later, but as the latter vessel had sailed from the Pagoda An-
