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The Pilot by James Fenimore Cooper
page 10 of 556 (01%)
that immediate coast abounded. The adventurous mariners who now
attempted this dangerous navigation in so wanton, and, apparently, so
heedless a manner, were in a low black schooner, whose hull seemed
utterly disproportioned to the raking masts it upheld, which, in their
turn, supported a lighter set of spars, that tapered away until their
upper extremities appeared no larger than the lazy pennant, that in vain
endeavored to display its length in the light breeze.

The short day of that high northern latitude was already drawing to a
close, and the sun was throwing his parting rays obliquely across the
waters, touching the gloomy waves here and there with streaks of pale
light. The stormy winds of the German Ocean were apparently lulled to
rest; and, though the incessant rolling of the surge on the shore
heightened the gloomy character of the hour and the view, the light
ripple that ruffled the sleeping billows was produced by a gentle air,
that blew directly from the land. Notwithstanding this favorable
circumstance, there was something threatening in the aspect of the
ocean, which was speaking in hollow but deep murmurs, like a volcano on
the eve of an eruption, that greatly heightened the feelings of
amazement and dread with which the peasants beheld this extraordinary
interruption to the quiet of their little bay. With no other sails
spread to the action of the air than her heavy mainsail, and one of
those light jibs that projected far beyond her bows, the vessel glided
over the water with a grace and facility that seemed magical to the
beholders, who turned their wondering looks from the schooner to each
other in silent amazement. At length the drover spoke in a low solemn
voice:

"He's a bold chield that steers her! and if that bit craft has wood in
her bottom, like the brigantines that ply between Lon'on and the Frith
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