Chapter Thirtieth. INTENSE HEAT-HUMAN NATURE AS EXHIBITED BY THE PASSENGERS-DANGER, NOT January 8th. CALM with intense heat. Our ship rolls about at the mercy of the sea, the spars creaking, and the sails displaying as little ambition as if they designed to enfold the yards in an eternal sleep. This example of tranquillity was but illy followed by the passengers; it appeared to foment their passions, bringing the evil ones to the surface. Each was disposed to demand an apology from his neighbor for wrongs either real or imaginary, (mostly of the latter;) the neighbor declaiming, in the most vehement manner, that he is the injured party. What a motley group! what an exposition of the dissimilarity of human nature! Here are my friends Fairchild and Seymour, all they should be, disposed to look upon the brightest side of the picture; McG. offering $100 for the strength he once had; "he would whip that d-d Englishman," the Englishman, at the same time, swelling and blowing about, with the pomp and glory of "Old England" flitting through his imagination, quite ignorant of his impending danger. Gates, on the alert for news for the captain's ear, for which he gets an occasional cup of coffee, together with the universal detestation of the passengers; the "Dutch Justice" strutting about with all the pomp of brainless vanity; the professor, learned in love, law, and physic, which comprises, in his estimation, all that can be learned in this world; "Long Tom Coffin," the very "beau ideal " of the hero himself, AN INDIVIDUAL RUNNING WILD. 181 stretched out on the quarter-deck, very much resembling a pair of oyster-tongs. He had Blackstone and Kent at his tongue's end, and swore that, on his arrival in Maine, he would prefer a "BRIEF" for the captain's especial edification; Ply, sitting under a quaker hat, as forbidding in appearance as he is in fact, damning all indiscriminately who differ with him in opinion. T——n, who in attempting to relate an occurrence commences at the last word, throwing the balance on the top of it, in the most unintelligible confusion. He is about twenty-one years of age, has been well brought up, with a good education, but is now running wild. He blacks his boots and starts for mast-head; half-way up, he halts, looks at his boots, suspects that they might have received a higher polish, and with a "d-n my shirt-tail to h-1," comes down again. He discovers some one's can of preserved meat; he takes it to the cook, and soon some one is invited to dine with him, and if he discovers some one's bottle of wine, some one is almost sure to get one glass of it. He had a passion for music, but generally sung in parodies, as follows: I'm sitting on a stile, Mary, Ittee bump, ittee bump, ittee bump. almost indefinitely, closing up with "well, well, d—n my shirttail to h―l, d-n it to h-l," and again starting for mast-head; he would probably reach the first yard, when a new idea, and he would be again on deck, playing superintendent of a caravan, with “John, take that little monkey from his mother, or he will suck her to death, not that I wish to disturb the animals in their innocent amusements, but by G-d the public eye must be respected; music, ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling, well, well, &c.” He is now interrupted by "Blubber," alias "Livingston & Wells' Express;" a short quarrel, and they square off for a fight. Blubber is backed by Buckskin, alias "the last run of shad," and they don't fight. We have a steward that knows his place, and another that does not deserve one on this earth; a cook who has not been accused of washing himself during the voyage, and one who appears never to have been guilty of the act. A negro who knows his place and keeps it, a white man, his neighbor, assuming everybody's place but his own; one man with no appetite, another creating a famine in his immediate neighborhood; five crazy men, fifty invalids, a penurious doctor, two mates-Tate and Barry-noblemen of nature's own make, and a captain who was made afterwards. In one thing only were we unanimous, which was the condemnation of sailing vessels in general, and the "Everett" in particular, including her captain. 11th. We discover something near the horizon resembling a capsized whale-boat. This causes a great sensation; the first mate mans the quarter-boat and pulls off for the object. The passengers watch most intently, the little craft as it rises upon the crest of a mountain-wave, and now disappearing, again rises to our view, still nearing the object in the distance. As they approach still nearer, through the ship's glass, we see fowls rising from it, and now the mate, standing in the bow, elevates the harpoon, as if to strike. A large sea-fowl still clings to the object; as they approach still nearer, it flies. The mate throws the harpoon and soon they are returning to the ship. They pronounced the object a pine-log. They have a Dolphin and several small fish; a cry of shark, and a large one passes along the weather side, four are following astern, accompanied by their pilots. We use the harpoon, but without success. 12th. 4 A.M., cry of "land ho!" I dress and go on deck; we are in sight of Points Mala and Puerco, at the entrance to the gulf of Panama, 100 miles from the city. A steamer is just passing the point into the gulf; a strong wind is blowing off the land, and west and in, running close on the wind. We beat all night, and in the morning find ourselves in the same position. 13th. Wind still dead ahead; after standing in and nearing the South American coast, we put about on the other tack; the wind soon "hauls," and we stand directly for the point and soon enter the mouth of the gulf. At 4 P.M., mate cries out from mast-head, "sail ho!" "How does she bear?" "Two points off leeward bow, sir." Delightful sunset; a school of porpoises are tumbling about in ecstasies. 14th. Pleasant morning; we are just off the inner point. A fine breeze blows off, our ship bows to the impulse, and we stand along under the lee of the land. Cry of dolphin, captain strikes OUR SAILS AND SPARS CARRIED AWAY. 183 one with the harpoon, it struggles with the instrument, disengages itself, and disappears in the direction of the bottom; he strikes another, it is hauled safely on board and served up for dinner. A whale passes, but not sufficiently near to receive our salutation. 4 P.M., it blows a gale, captain cries out, "clue up the top-gallantsail," "aye, aye, sir." During the night we have a terrific gale; it carries away our jib, foretop-sail, foretop-gallantsail, maintop-staysail, and maintop-gallantsail. 15th. The gale still continues; we are driven out of sight of land, but arrive in sight of the South American coast at 3 P.M., the Andes towering up, hiding themselves in the clouds. 16. Strong winds; we are about sixty miles from Panama, running close in shore. At evening, the kind-hearted inhabitants light beacons upon the side of the mountain, to guide us during the night. At nine we put about on the other tack, and at four in the morning were within ten minutes run of being 'aground. Chapter Thirty-first. BAY OF PANAMA-ITS BEAUTIES-TROPICAL FRUITS—THE CITY IN SIGHT-EXCITEMENT 18th. We are surrounded by islands; is there another bay that will compare with this? Certainly I never imagined anything so like a fairy scene. We are in the midst of twenty islands, all covered with tropical fruits of spontaneous growth; the orange, lime, fig, and cocoa-nut trees, interlaced with the grape, forming shelter for the inhabitants, and presenting them with food. We were in a condition to appreciate, most fully, the surrounding scene. Our voyage, which had now lasted fifty-one days, was commenced under adverse circumstances; five of the passengers had already died, and several were still confined to their berths with scurvy, some of them destined to breathe their last on board. scene. 4 P.M. As we emerge from behind a small island, we are in full view of Panama, the towers of her cathedral looming up, and her dilapidated wall extending along the water line; all are now in a phrensy of excitement; the passengers are climbing into the rigging, gazing with astonishment upon the surrounding The wind blows fresh from the land, and we are obliged to beat up directly in its eye; we passed near Tobago in the evening, and in the morning were near our anchorage. We run up the stars and stripes, and prepare to drop anchor; our trunks are in readiness, and we expect soon to be transferred to the shore. |