and who travel about with as much intelligence as a shell-fish.
But that's not in my line, I assure you."

"Please yourself, Monsieur Paganel. I have no doubt geographical science
will be a gainer by your sojourn in the Cape Verde Islands. We must
go in there anyhow for coal, so your disembarkation will not occasion
the least delay."

The captain gave immediate orders for the yacht to continue her route,
steering to the west of the Canary group, and leaving Teneriffe on
her larboard. She made rapid progress, and passed the Tropic of Cancer
on the second of September at 5 A. M.

The weather now began to change, and the atmosphere became damp
and heavy. It was the rainy season, "_le tempo das aguas_,"
as the Spanish call it, a trying season to travelers, but useful
to the inhabitants of the African Islands, who lack trees and
consequently water. The rough weather prevented the passengers
from going on deck, but did not make the conversation any less
animated in the saloon.

On the 3d of September Paganel began to collect his luggage
to go on shore. The DUNCAN was already steaming among
the Islands. She passed Sal, a complete tomb of sand lying
barren and desolate, and went on among the vast coral reefs
and athwart the Isle of St. Jacques, with its long chain
of basaltic mountains, till she entered the port of Villa Praya
and anchored in eight fathoms of water before the town.
The weather was frightful, and the surf excessively violent,
though the bay was sheltered from the sea winds.