Cape Cod came up over the horizon, for the second time. It was much harder to distinguish the land now. A snow flurry had started. At times, it thickened and blanketed the land entirely from view. Then it would ease and the drab land timidly poked through again. The Pilgrims saw and heard the breaking sea still pulverizing the shoreline. A pale, watery sun, out of a pinky sky, low and weak, played feebly upon the lonely, cheerless land. It was a bleak, windswept place. The powerless shafts of light pencilled the shore. There was little welcome here.
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