,
although they were not far in the distance. At another time, dragging on
sail to clear a lee shore, of a dark and stormy night, we came suddenly
into smooth water, where we cast anchor and furled our sails, lying in a
magic harbour till daylight the next morning, when we found ourselves
among a maze of ugly reefs, with high seas breaking over them, as far as
the eye could reach, on all sides, except at the small entrance to the
place that we had stumbled into in the night. The position of this
future harbour is South Lat. 16 deg. 48', and West Long, from Greenwich 39 deg.
30'. We named the place "PORT LIBERDADE."

The next places sighted were the treacherous Abrohles, and the village
of Caravellas back of the reef where, upon refitting, I found that a
chicken cost a thousand reis, a bunch of bananas four hundred reis; but
where a dozen limes cost only twenty reis--one cent. Much whaling gear
lay strewn about the place, and on the beach was the carcass of a whale
about nine days slain. Also leaning against a smart-looking boat was a
grey-haired fisherman, boat and man relics of New Bedford, employed at
this station in their familiar industry. The old man was bare-footed and
thinly clad, after the custom in this climate. Still, I recognized the
fisherman and sailor in the set and rig of the few duds he had on, and
the ample straw hat (donkey's breakfast) that he wore, and doffed in a
seaman-like manner, upon our first salute. "_Filio do Mar do Nord
Americano_," said an affable native close by, pointing at the same time
to that "son of the sea of North America," by way of introduction, as
soon as it was learned that we, too, were of that country. I tried to
learn from this ancient mariner the cause of his being stranded in this
strange land. He may have been cast up there by the whale for aught I
could learn to the contrary.

Choosing a berth well to windward of the dead whale--the one that landed
"the old man of the sea" there, maybe!--we anchored for the night, put a
light in the rigging and turned in. Next morning, the village was astir
betimes; canoes were being put afloat, and the rattle of poles, paddles,
bait boxes, and many more things for the daily trip that were being
hastily put into each canoe, echoed back from the tall palm groves notes
of busy life, telling us that it was time to weigh anchor and be
sailing. To this cheerful tune we lent ear and, hastening to be
underweigh, were soon clear of the port. The