"
So the Spaniard failed to enter, and now the great English navigator
went on his way, convinced there was no River of the West; but Robert
Gray headed back south determined to find what lay behind the
tremendous crash of breakers and sand bar. On the 7th of May, the
rowboat towed the _Columbia_ into what is now known as Gray's Harbor,
where he opened trade with the Indians, and was presently so boldly
overrun by them, that he was compelled to fire into their canoes,
killing seven. Putting out from this harbor on the 10th, he steered
south, keeping close ashore, and was rewarded at four o'clock on the
morning of the 11th by hearing a tide-rip like thunder and seeing an
ocean of waters crashing sheer over sand bar and reef with a cataract
of foam in midair from the drive of colliding waves. Milky waters
tinged the sea as of inland streams. Gray had found the river, but
could he enter? A gentle wind, straight as a die, was driving direct
ashore. Gray waited till the tide seemed to lift or deepen the waters
of the reef, then at eight in the morning, all sails set like a bird on
wing, drove straight for the narrow entrance between reefs and sand.
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