the close-reefed main-topsail and foresail, the fore-topsail and trysail
were now set, and the result was almost magical. With a few plunges we
cleared not only the reef, but a huge rock upon which I could with ease
have tossed a biscuit, and in a few minutes we were inexpressibly
rejoiced to observe both far astern.

We had now miraculously escaped all but certain destruction a second
time, but much was yet to be feared. We had still to pass Cape Jeller,
and the moments dragged on in gloomy apprehension and anxious suspense.
The ship carried sail most wonderfully, and we continued to go along at
the rate of seven knots, shipping very heavy seas, and laboring
much--all with much solicitude looking out for daylight. The dawn at
length appeared, and to our great joy we saw the land several miles
astern, having passed the Cape and many other hidden dangers during the
darkness.

Matters on the morning of the 5th, assumed a very different aspect from
that which we had experienced for the last two days; the wind gradually
subsided, and with it the sea, and a favorable breeze now springing up,
we were enabled to make a good offing. Fortunately no accident of
consequence occurred, although several of our people were severely
bruised by falls. Poor fellows! they certainly suffered enough; not a
dry stitch, not a dry hammock have they had since we sailed. Happily,
however, their misfortunes are soon forgot in a dry shirt and a can of
grog.

The most melancholy part of the narrative is still to be told. On coming
up to our anchorage, we observed an unusual degree of curiosity and
bustle in the fort; crowds of people were congregated on both sides,
running to and fro, examining us through spy-glasses; in short, an