the westward of Cape Horn, across the great, broad-backed, white-crested seas. The Sea Witch and Raven were having it out tack for tack, sometimes one and then the other gaining an advantage, both carrying sail to the utmost limit of prudence, lifting their long, sharp bows to the wild, surging seas, the cold spray flying across their decks and blue water swirling along their lee waists, each handled with consummate skill, and not a spar carried away or rope parted. The Typhoon in hot pursuit, was pressing the two leaders and slowly closing upon them, for her greater length and power helped her here. Finally the Sea Witch and Raven emerged from this desperate contest side by side, as they had entered it, both crossing latitude 50° S. in the Pacific in fourteen days from the same parallel in the Atlantic. The Typhoon had now gained another day, and was within twenty-four hours' sail of each.
Clear of Cape Horn they all went away fast to the northward, rushing through the southeast trades with studdingsails, skysails, water-sails, and ringtails—every yard of canvass set that would draw. On this stretch to the equator, the Sea Witch fairly flew through the water, and crossed in 22 days from 50° S., leading the Raven 2 and the Typhoon 4 days. They now stood to the northward, close-hauled on the starboard tack, for their final struggle. Here again length and power counted in favor of the Typhoon, and she came up with the Sea Witch and Raven, leading them both into port; the Raven, too, for the first time fairly headed the Sea Witch. The Typhoon glided through the Golden Gate, November
