ined from springs beneath
the sea. There it is brought to the surface by employing divers, who
descend with leather bags. The mouth of a bag is placed over the
bubbling spring, quickly filled and closed again, being then drawn to
the surface by persons awaiting the signal from the diver, who then
hastens to rise for needed air. There is no mystery as to the source of
these springs. The rain falls on the distant mountains, and finding its
way through the rocky ledges, pursues its course until it gushes forth
in the bed of the gulf.

A fortnightly steamer from New York, bound for Cuba, touches at Nassau
on the southward trip to leave the mail, and we will avail ourselves of
this opportunity to visit the "Queen of the Antilles," as this island is
called. At first we steam to the north for half a day, in order to find
a safe channel out of the Bahamas, where there is more of shoal than of
navigable waters, and as we do so, we leave many islands behind us
inhabited only by turtles, flamingoes, and sea-birds. But we are soon
steaming due south again towards our destination, namely, the island of
Cuba, five hundred miles away. San Salvador is sighted on our starboard
bow (right-hand side), the spot where Columbus first landed in the New
World. It will be found laid down on most English maps as Cat Island,
and is now the home of two or three thousand colored people, the
descendants of imported Africans. The island is nearly as large as New
Providence. It is said that the oranges grown here are the sweetest and
best that are known. The voyager in these latitudes is constantly
saluted by gentle breezes full of tropical fragrance, intensified in
effect by the distant view of cocoanut, palmetto, and banana trees,
clothing the islands in a mantle of green, down to the very water's
edge. As we glide along, gazing shoreward, now and again little groups
of swallows seem to be flitting a few feet above the waves, then
suddenly disappearing beneath the water. These are flying-fish enjoying
an air-bath, either in frolic or in fear; pursued possibly by some
dreaded enemy in the sea, which they are trying to escape.

It is interesting to remain on deck at night and watch the heavens as we
glide through the phosphorescent sea. Is it possible that the moon,
whose light renders objects so plain that one can see to read small
print, shines solely by borrowed light? We know it to be so, and also
that Venus, Mars, and perhaps Jupiter and Saturn