Read "A Duluth Tragedy" by Thomas A. Janvier online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
As they neared the inlet the water roughened a little and the wind grew stronger. Ulrica eased off the sheet, and steadied it with a turn around the pin. In a few minutes more they had opened the inlet fairly, and beyond it could see the lake -- stretching away indefinitely until its cold grey surface was lost against the cold grey sky. A very heavy sea was running. In every direction was the gleam of white-caps. On the beaches to the left and right of them a high surf was booming in. They ran on, close-hauled, until they were nearly through the inlet and were come into a bubble of water that set the boat to dancing like a cork. Now and then, as she fell off, a wave would take her with a thump and cover them with a cloud of spray.
The helm was pulling hard, but Ulrica managed it as easily and as knowingly as she had managed the setting of the sail -- standing with her feet well apart, firmly braced, her tall figure yielding to the boat's motion with a superb grace. Suddenly a gust of wind carried away her hat, and in another moment the great mass of her golden hair was blowing out behind her in the strong eddy from the sail. Her face was radiant. Every drop of her Norse blood was tingling in her veins. Aslauga herself never was more gloriously beautiful -- and never more joyously drove her boat onward through a stormy sea.