Explore "Masters of the Wheat-Lands" by Harold Bindloss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A gray dimness was creeping in upon the schooner when a bitter breeze sprang tip from the westward, and Dampier bade the crew get the mainsail on to the _Selache_.
"I don't like the look of the weather, and I'm beginning to feel that I'd like to see that boat," he said. "Anyhow, we'll get way on her."