oo much to contend with. I had got only a short distance
past the frigate, and was convinced that I could not reach the city.
Then I turned back, repassed the frigate, and headed for the southern
shore. The tide, at the same time, carried me towards the entrance of
the harbour. I was in hopes of getting to land before I should be
carried past the Sugar Loaf. As a last recourse I could let the clothing
go, and that I would not do until it became a necessity. As I was
swimming at an angle with the tide, not so much exertion was needed.
Much to my relief I saw the dim outline of a vessel to my left. I then
swam with the tide, and in a few minutes I was holding on the
anchor-chain. I had a good rest and, at the same time, thought what was
best for me to do. I could easily get on board at the bow, but if it
were an English vessel my name would be "Dennis," sure enough. I
proposed to take no more chances than necessary that night. Finally I
let go of the chain and drifted to the stern. There I found the vessel's
boat in the water. I got the bundle into the boat and climbed in myself.

The first thing I did was to read the vessel's name. I was then
satisfied that she was a Brazilian coaster. I wrung the water from my
clothes and was soon dressed up. There were no oars in the boat; if
there had been I would have cut the painter and sculled with a single
oar for the western shore. When I felt strong enough, I climbed up the
painter to the taffrail and got on deck. No one was to be seen, so I
commenced an investigation. She was a brig. On each side of the
quarter-deck was a cubby-hole--a small white house with sliding-doors,
just large enough for a man to sleep in. The starboard one was empty, so
I knew the captain was on shore. In the port side was the mate, asleep.
The cool night wind blowing on my clothes made me quite chilly. Not
having decided exactly what to do, I was standing by the wheel making up
my mind. A crisis was at hand. The mate crawled out of his hole, about
half awake, rubbing his eyes. He caught a glimpse of me, all dressed in
white, standing close to the wheel. Before I could say a word he gave a
terrible yell; then he stuttered out, "Por Dios, que es esta?"--"For
God's sake, what is that?" Staggering back a few steps, he turned around
and ran forward, disappearing down the forecastle scuttle. Then I went
to the taffrail and got the boat's painter ready for being cast off in
an instant; taking my knife from my