that, the longer I deferred action the nearer should we
be to Barbadoes, for which island I intended to make; while my second
reason was that, should Dominguez perchance suspect me of any sinister
design, the longer the delay on my part the less suspicious and watchful
would he be likely to become. Fortunately for my purpose, we were
making rather a long passage of it, the little hooker not being by any
means a particularly weatherly craft; consequently our first land-fall--
on our sixth day out--was the curious shoal and accompanying group of
rocky islets called Los Roques, or The Roccas, off La Guayra, close to
which we hove about and stood to the northward on the starboard tack.

This occurred during the early morning, about an hour after sunrise.
The trade wind was then blowing steadily but moderately, and the weather
was, as usual, fine and clear. Toward noon, however, it became
noticeable that the wind was very decidedly softening down; and when
Dominguez took his meridian observation of the sun, we were not going
more than four knots. It was the custom aboard the felucca to dine in
the middle of the day, as soon as Dominguez had worked out his
calculations, the skipper and I dining first, and then going on deck
while Miguel, the mate, took his meal. While Miguel was below Dominguez
usually took the tiller, but of late I had occasionally relieved him--
with a vague idea that possibly it might, at some opportune moment, be
an advantage for me to be at the helm. And, as it happened, I chanced
to be first on deck on this particular day, and, without any
premeditation, went aft and relieved Miguel; so that, when a few minutes
later Dominguez came on deck, he found me in possession of the tiller,
and staring intently at some floating object about a quarter of a mile
away, and slightly on our weather bow, that kept rising into view and
vanishing again as the long, lazy undulations of the swell swept past
it.

"What are you staring at so hard, Senor Courtenay? Do you see
anything?" demanded Dominguez, as he sauntered aft toward me from the
companion, cigar in mouth.

"Yes," answered I, replying to his last question first, "there is
something out there, but what it is I cannot for the life of me make
out. There--there it is! You can see it now lifting on the back of the
swell, about a point on the weather bow."

"Ay," he answered eagerly, "I see it, and, unless I am greatly mistaken,
I know what it is. Keep