le from all parts of Europe, who beheld it with
astonishment. The king subsequently received letters from the
governor of Nuno da Cunha, confirming the news brought by
Botelho; the bearer of these letters, a Jew, was immediately
rewarded with a pension of a hundred and forty milreas; but
Botelho was neglected for many years, and at last appointed
commander of St. Thome, and finally made captain of Cananor in
India, that he might be at a distance from Portugal.'

The vessel named _fusta_ is a long, shallow, Indian-built row-boat,
which uses latine sails in fine weather. These boats are usually open,
but Botelho covered his with a deck: its dimensions, according to
Lavanha, in his edition of De Barros' unfinished Decade, are as
follows:--length, twenty-two palmos, or sixteen feet six inches.
Breadth, twelve palmos, or nine feet. Depth, six palmos, or four feet
six inches. Bligh's boat was twenty-three feet long, six feet nine
inches broad, and two feet nine inches deep. From the circumstance
mentioned of some of his crew having perished with cold, it is probable
that they were natives of India, whom the Portuguese were in the habit
of bringing home as part of their crew.

[12] Previous to the writing of this letter, the following copy of
verses shows how anxiously this young lady's mind was engaged on the
unhappy circumstances under which her brother was placed.

On the tedious and mournful Absence of a most beloved BROTHER, who was
in the _Bounty_ with Captain BLIGH at the Time of the FATAL MUTINY,
which happened April 28th, 1789, in the South Seas, and who, instead of
returning with the Boat when she left the Ship, stayed behind.
Tell me, thou busy flatt'ring Telltale, why--
Why flow these tears--why heaves this deep-felt sigh,--
Why is all joy from my sad bosom flown,
Why lost that cheerfulness I thought my own;
Why seek I now in solitude for ease.
Which once was centred in a wish to please,
When ev'ry hour in joy and gladness past,
And each new day shone brighter than the last;
When in society I loved to join;
When to enjoy, and give delight, was mine?--
Now--sad reverse! in sorrow wakes each day,
And griefs sad tones inspire each plaintive lay:
Alas! too plain these mournful tears can tell
The pangs of woe my lab'ring bosom swell!
Thou best of brothers--friend, companion, guide,
Joy of my youth, my honou