hour he arrived at the opening of the strait; it was
about a mile wide, and either shore was quite flat, that on the right
for a short distance, the range of downs approaching within two miles;
that on the left, or north, was level as far as he could see. He had now
again to lower his sail, to get the outrigger on his lee as he turned to
the right and steered due east into the channel. So long as the shore
was level, he had no difficulty, for the wind drew over it, but when the
hills gradually came near and almost overhung the channel, they shut off
much of the breeze, and his progress was slow. When it turned and ran
narrowing every moment to the south, the wind failed him altogether.

On the right shore, wooded hills rose from the water like a wall; on the
left, it was a perfect plain. He could see nothing of the merchantman,
although he knew that she could not sail here, but must be working
through with her sweeps. Her heavy hull and bluff bow must make the
rowing a slow and laborious process; therefore she could not be far
ahead, but was concealed by the winding of the strait. He lowered the
sail, as it was now useless, and began to paddle; in a very short time
he found the heat under the hills oppressive when thus working. He had
now been afloat between six and seven hours, and must have come fully
thirty miles, perhaps rather more than twenty in a straight line, and he
felt somewhat weary and cramped from sitting so long in the canoe.

Though he paddled hard he did not seem to make much progress, and at
length he recognised that there was a distinct current, which opposed
his advance, flowing through the channel from east to west. If he ceased
paddling, he found he drifted slowly back; the long aquatic weeds, too,
which he passed, all extended their floating streamers westward. We did
not know of this current till Felix Aquila observed and recorded it.

Tired and hungry (for, full of his voyage, he had taken no refreshments
since he started), he resolved to land, rest a little while, and then
ascend the hill, and see what he could of the channel. He soon reached
the shore, the strait having narrowed to less than a mile in width, and
ran the canoe on the ground by a bush, to which, on getting out, he
attached the painter. The relief of stretching his limbs was so great
that it seemed to endow him with fresh strength, and without waiting to
eat, he at once climbed the hill. From the top, the remainder of the
strait