On the 5th of August we saw land for the first time for twelve days.
The sun was rising as the little island of Porto Santo greeted our
sight. It is formed of peaked mountains, which, by their shape,
betray their volcanic origin. A few miles in advance of the island
stands the beautiful Falcon Rock, like a sentinel upon the look-out.
We sailed past Madeira (23 miles from Porto Santo) the same day, but
unluckily at such a distance that we could only perceive the long
mountain chains by which the island is intersected. Near Madeira
lie the rocky Deserta Islands, which are reckoned as forming part of
Africa.

Near these islands we passed a vessel running under reefed sails
before the wind, whence the captain concluded that she was a cruiser
looking after slavers.

On the 6th of August we beheld, for the first time, flying fish, but
at such a distance that we could scarcely distinguish them.

On the 7th of August we neared the Canary Isles, but unfortunately,
on account of the thick fog, we could not see them. We now caught
the trade wind, that blows from the east, and is anxiously desired
by all sailors.

In the night of the 9-10th we entered the tropics. We were now in
daily expectation of greater heat and a clearer sky, but met with
neither. The atmosphere was dull and hazy, and even in our own raw
fatherland the sky could not have been so overcast, except upon some
days in November. Every evening the clouds were piled upon one
another in such a way that we were continually expecting to see a