250 MR. DAVIS'S JOURNAL. 



Friday, I7t/i. — Madeira in sight on our larboard bow, dis- 

 tant about fifteen miles. We are to westward of the island, and 

 it is not the captain's intention to put in ; so we shall be deprived 

 of the expected opportunity of sending our letters, for which 



this was begun. 



Nov. 27, 1S37. Lat. 10° 14' 21" iV. 



The captain thinks we may see some homeward-bound 

 vessels in a day or two. We have run twenty-three degrees of 

 latitude since the 17th — not bad work. Beautiful breezes. 

 Flying-fish now swarm ; the little fellows start out of the water 

 in lots, rise but very little, and then start in a straight line. 

 It appears to me, that they drop from their inability to get on : 

 some c/et along much farther than others — I should say, occa- 

 sionally twice the ship's length ; but, as their course is always 

 at an angle from the ship, it is difficult to tell. Sometimes they 

 meet a wave, and, if the crest touches them, they appear to 

 have power to continue their flight ; this arises, probably, from 

 their getting another icet: they certainly have no means for 

 rising beyond what the first impulse gives them. We have 

 taken two or three. The dolphin is their inveterate enemy. 

 We caught one of these gentry a day or two since during a 

 slight calm, while under San Antonio, one of the Cape de 

 Verds ; it was small, but the changing hues of the scales, 

 while pulling out of the water, were exquisitely beautiful. 

 To-day a shark has been seen. Porpoises are frequent: their 

 gambols are very amusing ; they spring from the water several 

 feet, describe a curve, and dip their noses in again, with a 

 jaunty flap of their tail, quite refreshing. The sea is beauti- 

 fully luminous at night ; the foam of the sea is saturated with 

 stars of all magnitudes — they sparkle as brightly as Aldebaran : 

 some have a halo round them, others are more like nebulas. 

 What a countless host must inhabit the sea ! I got up some 

 of the water to examine it, but my microscope is not powerful 

 enough to scrutinize the wretches, nor have we a lamp to 

 throw light on it. The weather is rather warmish, the thermo- 

 meter having been steady at 80°, day and night, in the cabin : 

 we are gradually liquefying. The heavens, at night, are 

 beautiful ; Venus casts a reflection on the sea almost equal to 

 that of the new moon. In a few days we shall see stars new to 

 us : the sun now sets a long way to our right. Mother Carey's 

 chickens occasionally visit us, — but we cannot catch thera. 



