the diamonds, and that if they could only keep her head due
west, we should make San Ambrosio about the same time that I was expecting
to make Callao.

I had never heard of San Ambrosio before; but the fact of Kidd wanting to
go thither was reason enough for my not wanting to go, so I bade Yawl
steer due north, that is to say, parallel with the coast, and as the
continent of South America trends considerably to the westward, about
twenty degrees south of the equator, I reckoned that this course should
bring us within sight of land on the following day, or the day after,
according to the speed we made.

I not only told Yawl and Kidd to steer north, but saw that they did it, as
to which, the compass being now always before us, there was no difficulty.
Thinking it was well to learn to steer, I took a hand now and again at the
tiller, under the direction of Kidd, whose manners my recent lesson had
greatly improved. He was very affable, and obeyed my orders with alacrity
and seeming good-will.

The next day I began to look out for land, without, however, much
expectation of seeing any, but when a second day, being the third of our
voyage, ended with the same result or, rather, want of result, I became
uneasy, and expressed myself in this sense to Kidd.

"You have miscalculated the distance," he said, "and there's nothing so
easy, when you've no chart and can take no observations. And how can you
tell the sloop's rate of sailing? The wind is fair and constant--it always
is in the trades--but how do you know as there is not a strong current
dead against us? I don't think there's the least use looking for land
before to-morrow."

This rather reassured me. It was quite true that the sloop might not be
going so fast as I reckoned, and the coast be farther off than I
thought--although I did not much believe in the current.

But the morrow came and went, and still no sign of land, and again, on the
fifth day, the sun rose on an unbroken expanse of water. In clear
weather--and no weather could be clearer--the Andes, as I had heard, were
visible to mariners a hundred and fifty miles out at sea. Yet not a peak
could be seen. Then I knew beyond a doubt that something was wrong. What
could it be? Sailing as swiftly as we had been for five days, it was
inconceivable that we should not have made land if we had been steering
north, and for that I had the evidence of my senses. Where, then, was the
mystery?

As I asked myself this q