shore, and soon after I followed with
Albino. Passing round the point which had cut off our view of the
canoa, we came upon what might well be called an iron-bound coast,
being a table of rock rising but a few feet above the level of the sea,
washed by every storm, until it had become porous and full of holes,
and the edges stuck up like points of rusted iron. The waves were still
dashing over them, forming great whirlpools in the hollow spaces, and
suggesting a frightful picture of the fate of any unhappy voyagers who
might have been thrown upon them; and the rocks were strewed with
staves and planks from some wrecked vessel. After walking two hours I
became satisfied that the canoa must have taken the brunt of the storm,
and my apprehensions were seriously excited when I saw, at a long
distance beyond, Bernaldo, whom I at first thought I had overtaken, but
discovered that he had a small pyramid on his head, consisting of
cooking vessel and provisions. He had met one of the sailors coming to
our relief, from whom he had taken his burden, and was then returning.
We went on, and after three hours' painful walking reached the cove. It
was a wild, abrupt, and narrow opening between the rocks, about fifty
feet wide, with perpendicular sides, and leading into a sheltered
basin, which, while the sea outside was raging, was calm and quiet as a
pond. At the head of this lay the canoa, which came down and took me on
board.

From the simple and unaffected account of the patron, his entry into
the cove must have been sublime. Night had overtaken him, and he
supposed that he had run by, when a flash of lightning disclosed the
narrow passage, and he turned the old canoa short into the very middle
of it. In passing through he struck upon a sunken rock, lost one man
overboard, caught him by the light of another flash, and in a moment
was in still water. The cove was imbosomed among noble trees. The water
was twenty feet deep, and so clear that the bottom was distinctly
visible; and from one end ran a creek, which the patron said was
navigable for canoes into the centre of the island, where it expanded
into a lake. Sails, luggage, Doctor Cabot's birds, and my copy of
Cogolludo, were spread out to dry, and, after dining upon turtles' eggs
laid a few minutes on the coals, I set out on my return, gathering on
the way an unusual harvest of shells. Ever since we came upon the coast
our idle moments had been employed in this pleasant occupa