to be
seen, except those piled on the mountains already mentioned;--the bright
full moon, shedding her mysterious rays on all surrounding
objects--illuminating, yet distancing them--all these were things to be
remembered. And last, the revolving light on the Cape, at regular
intervals, lighting up the renowned old headland.

We passed the Cape at about 3 A.M., and bearing away gave her the
trysails reduced by their bonnets, and close-reefed topsails; and I
turned in to snatch a brief repose, before the trials of another day
should begin.

_Friday, September 25th.--Delivered the jail_, as usual, upon getting to
sea. It will take several days, I am afraid, to work the grog out of the
crew, before they are likely to settle down into good habits and
cheerfulness.

The next fortnight's run through the heavy gales that prevail almost
incessantly in the higher latitudes of the Indian Ocean, brought the
Alabama some 2400 miles upon her course. Two days more brought her off
the Island of St. Paul's, a distance of 2840 miles. Another couple of
days, and she had made about sufficient easting, and began to shape her
course towards the north--the "sunny north."

A few short extracts from the journal will give sufficient idea of the
period thus passed through:--

_October 16th._--Lat. 35.23; Long. 89.55; no observations for current;
distance some 135 miles. The gale in which we lay-to ten hours, having
broken in upon our day's work. Bar. 29.57, and on a stand; running
before the wind, under close-reef and reefed foresail. Afternoon gale
increased, and between twelve and one it blew furiously, the whole sea
being a sheet of foam, the air rendered misty by the spray, and the
heavy seas threatening to jump on board of us, although we were scudding
at the rate of very little less than fifteen knots--the whole
accompanied by an occasional snow-squall from dark, threatening-looking
clouds. It is not often that a wilder scene is beheld: in the meantime
the Cape pigeons are whirling around us, occasionally poising themselves
against the stern, as serenely, apparently, as if the elements were at
rest. The barometer has remained perfectly stationary at 29.57 during
this blow for seven hours (from morning to 7 P.M.), without varying a
single hair's breadth, during all of which time the gale was raging with
unmitigated violence from about S.W. by W. to S.W. During this period,
we were travelling about on an average speed of eleven knots; a