evening the wind fell, and we crawled round the point, when we came to
anchor again, for it was now dark, and El Sol could not travel at
night. The patron made all secure; we had a big stone for anchor, and
rode in water knee deep. In due time we turned in for sleep; and it
might have been consoling to distant friends to know that, exposed as
we were on this desolate coast, we made so tight a fit in the canoa
that if the bottom had fallen out we could hardly have gone through.

The next morning, with the rising of her great namesake, El Sol was
under way. The prevalent wind along the coast was southeast, adverse
for us; but, as the captain said, on our return it would be in our
favour. At one o'clock another bold point intercepted us. It was a
great object to get round it, for the wind would then be fair. El Sol
made a vigorous effort, but by this time the breeze had become strong,
and we were fain to come to anchor under the lee of Point Frances,
which, was on the same island with Point Moscheto. The island itself
has no name, and is a mere sand-bank covered with scrub bushes, having
a passage between it and the mainland, navigable for small canoas. Our
anchorage ground was in front of the rancho of a fisherman, the only
habitation on the island, built like an Indian's wigwam, thatched with
palm leaves close down to the ground, and having both ends open, giving
free passage to a current of air, so that while without a step from the
door, the heat was burning, within there were coolness and comfort. The
fisherman was swinging in his hammock, and a handsome Indian boy was
making tortillas, the two presenting a fine picture of youth and
vigorous old age. The former, as he told us, was sixty-five years old,
tall and erect, with his face burned black, deep seams on his forehead,
but without a single gray hair or other symptom of decay. He had been
three months living on this desolate island, and called it amusing
himself. Our skipper said he was the best fisherman from Yalahao, that
he always went alone, and always made more than the rest but in a week
on shore his money was all gone. He had no milpa, and said that with
his canoa, and the sea, and the whole coast as a building spot for a
rancho, he was independent of all the world. The fishing on this coast
was for turtle; on one side of the hut were jars of turtle oil, and
outside, rather too near when the wind was in certain quarters, were
the skeletons of turtles from w