them. There he stood looking intently into the water with his harpoon raised, when suddenly a group of the animals came within striking distance. In an instant he thrust his weapon into one of them, and the line was pulled in by men who were stationed on deck for the purpose. The fish was brought to the surface, but in his struggles he broke away from the harpoon and escaped, and in a few moments the whole school, as if warned of their danger, had disappeared. We have not a great variety of amusements on board our vessel, and such a circumstance as this serves to infuse a good deal of life into us. A school of porpoises, a few stray sea birds, and a distant sail constitute nearly all we have to relieve the monotony of our voyage. Up to this time we have spoken but one vessel. I lay in my berth one night dreaming pleasantly of friends at home, when I was awakened by the hoarse voice of our captain hailing a bark that was at that moment passing. She was a Dutch vessel homeward bound. The Dutch captain had some difficulty in understanding ours, and asked three times where we were bound, though answered each time very distinctly "Cal-i-for-ny."

April 19. This morning the mate found a flying-fish. It had flown in during the night, probably in attempting to escape the dolphin, which is its greatest enemy. It was about ten inches in length, with fins five or six inches, which serve as wings in the short flights it makes over the water. Some of our men saw a large turtle floating by us. It had a voyage of several hundred miles to make before it could reach land.

We are not without many annoyances, and one very serious one arises from the bad cooking of our food, and often from want of a sufficient quantity of it. Our cooks are excessively filthy, and it requires a strong stomach to enable one to swallow the messes they set before us. Many complaints have been made of this state of things to the captain, and to-day we have presented him with a written protest signed by every man in our room, but without effecting any improvement.

Time passes irksomely with many of our passengers, and they often resort to odd expedients in order to wear away the weary hours. When other sources of amusement fail, they sometimes find enjoyment in playing practical jokes on each other. We had an instance of this sort of recreation to-day. A ship was seen to windward in the morning, and standing in the same direction with us. Some one of the party pronounced her a pirate. This was found to operate on the fears of one of the passengers, a simple, honest, credulous fellow, who believed others to be as honest as himself, and a grand frolic was arranged to come off at night at his expense. It was therefore reported that the pirate, though she had fallen several miles astern, had sent a boat to board us, and accordingly several of the men armed themselves with their rifles and revolvers, and prepared to defend the ship. Several barrels were thrown overboard in the dark to represent the piratical boat, and these were fired at as they floated by the ship. Then came a man tumbling and rolling about with terrible groans and yells, pretending to be wounded, and a moment after a cry went through the ship that the pirates were boarding us. The poor fellow for whose benefit all this hubbub was gotten up, was at that moment passing by my berth, and I heard him responding to the cry—"They are boarding us, they are boarding us! where's a handspike?" and he ran and unshipped a pump handle in an instant, and hastened to the spot where the supposed attack was made, determined to make a desperate defence. That he would have fought bravely had there been occasion for it, no one had a doubt, while it was suspected that some of his persecutors would have preferred retreating to fighting under any circumstances. The cracking of the rifles and revolvers, and the uproar all over the ship, awoke the captain, who got up in no very amiable mood, but he soon got into the humor of the frolic, and laughed as heartily as any of them.

April 21. Our longitude to-day at noon was 23° W., latitude 23° 50' N. We were then twenty-one miles from the Tropic of Cancer. It is now sunset. We have passed the tropic, and are now sailing in the torrid zone. It is an epoch in my life. I have talked with several of my fellow passengers about it, but they see nothing to interest them in the circumstance. This tropic is not a thing to be seen—there is nothing tangible in it. And as for the torrid zone, they do not perceive any very great difference between that and the temperate zone we have just left. I am now sitting at the stern of the ship, enjoying a mild soft sea breeze and a beautiful twilight. We often have richer sunsets in Maine, and the twilight continues much longer; but there is here, while it continues, a softness and a delicate blending of the different tints of purple, azure and gold, which we do not always see in our northern latitudes. Our men are lying or sitting about the decks and upon the houses, many in groups engaged in conversation, some of them spinning long yarns, and others listening to an interesting song wherein is related the history of "a beautiful fair maid of high degree with black hair and milk white cheeks, and her galliant lovyer," while here and there may be seen one quietly communing with his own thoughts, which the friends he has left three thousand miles distant suggest to him.

The ladies at the beginning of the voyage were confined a large portion of the time to their cabin by sickness. But since their recovery they spend many hours on deck every fair day; and as they are under the necessity of going through our room in passing to and from their cabin, we are in a fair way of becoming acquainted with them.

April 22. We are now but three hundred and fifty miles distant from the coast of Africa, and about five hundred miles north of the Cape Verde Islands. We have sailed sharp on the wind during several days, hoping each day to fall in with the north-east trade-winds that are to waft us to the coast of South America. But we have not been so fortunate as to find the trades, and this morning we have but little wind in any direction. The sea, though rolling in long undulations, is very smooth, and the sails are flapping idly against the masts.

CHAPTER II.

Consultations about Cape Verde Islands—Flying-fish—English Steamer—Tropical Showers—Disappointment—Capture of a Porpoise—May-Day at Sea—An English Bark—Letters for Home—Another Bark—Nautical Ceremonies—An Aquatic Bird—Crossing the Equator—Squalls—A Portuguese Brig—Captain J. engages to stop at Rio Janeiro—Land Seen—Cape Frio—Approach to Rio Janeiro—Beautiful Scenery—Disappointment.

I have had several consultations with the captain on the subject of touching at the Cape Verde Islands; and as his chief objection, aside from one or two days' loss of time, is the port charges, the passengers have obviated that objection by subscribing an amount much greater than will be necessary to pay those charges, besides engaging to assist in getting