252 The Naturalist in Nicaragua 
Here we found Senor Ocon’s boat, but there was no other. 
The boatmen said we must embark at once. We made an 
arrangement with a man who had accompanied Ocon to take 
our mules to San Ubaldo, as we proposed to return that way. 
The boat was small, and there were seven of us; so that with 
our saddles and luggage we were much cramped for room. 
They poled the boat for two miles down a small river 
that emptied into the lake, but just before we reached it, the 
boatmen stopped and said it was too rough to proceed that 
night, and notwithstanding our remonstrances they tied the 
boat to some bushes. Our cramped position was very irk- 
some; the river was bordered by swamps, so that we could 
not land, and thousands of mosquitoes came about and 
rendered sleep impossible. About midnight, the moon rose, 
and two hours later we prevailed on the boatmen to set sail, 
but, notwithstanding their excuse about it being too rough, 
there was so little wind that we made slow progress. At 
eight we went on shore, where there was a hut built close 
by the lake below Masaya. The lake was flooded, and the 
water had been over the floor of the hut during the night. 
All around were swamps, and the mosquitoes were intolerable. 
We could buy no food at the miserable shanty, and soon set 
sail again. A little more wind afterwards springing up, we 
reached Los Cocos at eleven o’clock. There is a small village 
at this place, where we got breakfast cooked, and did justice 
to it. We hired horses to take us to Granada; but as the 
road for a league further on was overflown by the lake, we 
went on in the boat, and a boy took the horses round to meet 
us, swimming them across the worst places. 
Glad we were to get on horseback again, and to canter 
along a hard sandy road, instead of sitting cramped up in a 
little boat, with the sun’s rays pouring down on us. The 
path led amongst the bushes, and was sometimes overflowed, 
but the soil was sandy, and there was no mud. All the beach 
was submerged, or we should have ridden along it. The last 
time I had passed by this part of the lake was in July 1868. 
Then the waters of the lake were low, and we rode along the 
sandy beach, black in some parts with titanic iron sand. 
The beach resembled that of a sea-coast, with the waves 
rolling in upon it, and to the south-east the water extended 
to the horizon. Along the shore were strewn shells thrown 
