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At 5 P. M. we weathered Point Dyanye, garnished, like Nyonye, with a threatening line of breakers; the boat-passage along shore was about 400 yards wide. Darkness came on shortly after six o'clock, and the sultry weather began to look ominous, with a huge, angry, black nimbus discharging itself into the glassy livid sea northwards.
A creek supplied us with pure cold water, a spreading tree with a roof, and the soft clean shore with the most luxurious of couches at 3 P.M. I could hardly persuade myself that an hour had flown. As we approached Dyanye, at last, a village hoisted the usual big flag on the normal tall pole, and with loud cries ordered us to land.
The curve is bounded south by Point Dyanye, which appeared to retreat as we advanced. At 2 P.M., when the marvellous clearness of the sky was troubled by a tornado forming in the north-east, we turned towards a little inlet, and, despite the heavy surf, we disembarked without a ducking.
He then blustered and threatened instant death, at which it was easy to laugh. About 10 A.M. we lay off our destination, some ten miles south of Dyanye Point.
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