arrel became more bitter. On the 24th they
reached the influence of the trade winds, which blow continually from
east to west. On the 6th of September they reached the Tropic of
Cancer. In crossing this line a custom had long prevailed of performing
a rite called baptism upon all on shipboard who then crossed for the
first time. The indignity was inflicted upon all alike, without any
regard to character or rank. But, by giving the sailors a rich treat,
one could secure for himself a little more moderation in the
performance of the revolting ceremony.

A very stout sailor, generally the most gigantic man of the crew,
grotesquely dressed to represent Father Neptune, would come up over the
bows of the vessel and seize his victim. First he would catechize him
very closely respecting his object in crossing the line; then he would
exact an oath that he would never permit any one, when he was present,
to enter the tropics without subjecting him to baptism. Then he would
dash several bucketsful of salt water upon his head. This was the
mildest form of performing the rite. If the subject for the baptism
were, for any reason, obnoxious to the sailors, his treatment was much
more severe. He was greased and tarred and shampooed, and shaved with
an iron hoop, and treated, in all respects, very roughly.

On board this fleet, the passengers, including one hundred well-armed
soldiers, greatly exceeded the number of sailors. La Salle, learning
that the sailors were making great preparations for this baptism,
resolved that he would not submit to such an indignity, and that his
companions and followers should not be subjected to it. He therefore
issued orders prohibiting the ceremony. This exasperated the sailors.
Beaujeu openly advocated their cause. The seamen were compelled to
submit. The antagonism between the two commanders was embittered.

On the 11th of September they reached the latitude of St. Domingo. A
dead calm soon ensued. The ships floated as upon a sea of glass. One of
the soldiers died. After imposing religious rites, his body was
consigned to its ocean sepulchre. The calm was succeeded by a storm. In
the darkness and tumult of this tropical tempest the vessels lost sight
of each other. Gradually the storm abated. The change of climate had
caused much sickness. Fifty were in hospital on board the Joli,
including La Salle and both of the surgeons. On the 20th, the grand
mountains of St. Helena hove in sight, and the majes