WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 143 



hands on deck all day, and only a watchman on deck at night 

 to attend to the steam cookers but when will that be ? 

 There is a new moon to-night and I turned some silver 

 leiras and a sixpence in my pocket, and will play the pipes 

 they may bring us whales bagpipes make both salmon and 

 pike take vigorously ; I can bring witnesses to this ! and 

 they have, beyond doubt, an effect on the wind. 



. . . An exquisite morning ; at eight o'clock comfortably 

 hot wind westerly and we paddle away east from San Miguel. 

 The island is getting low now on the horizon, but we still see 

 a glimpse of sun on its highest land beneath the shadow of 

 the great cloud cap a glimpse of fields and faint white 

 specks for cottages. Yes, my first impression seems still 

 to hold a land you could live and love in, with such ex- 

 quisite sunny soothing fresh air ; from the little glimpse 

 we had of its people such ideas seem tenable. 



We drifted all night, with riding light, taking things easy. 

 Our busy time is still to come, perhaps that bank we are 

 drifting towards, out of reach of shore whaling-boats, may 

 show us some plunder or profit per cent., and if it doesn't, 

 well, we have other islands to discover and circumnavigate. 

 " Discover " is the word I want. Once, long ago, the writer, 

 with others, discovered new vistas of land and mountain, 

 uninhabited grand mountains and glaciers in seas of table- 

 topped bergs of huge proportions, and undoubtedly the 

 sensation was not to be forgotten ; but praise be, a new 

 land to the writer, with new people to him, and new habits 

 and customs, is still of the greatest fascination, even though 

 it has been known, like these Azores, for six centuries. 



I question if Columbus enjoyed the first sight of the Norse 

 Vinland any more than we shall enjoy the sight of the next 

 island we come to of this archipelago of nine islands. 



Fayal, for instance, and Pico we have seen post cards of 

 both, and each looks perfectly charmingly fascinating. Pico 

 must be like Fusian, the Japanese peak. 



Truly this sea, between the Azores and Africa, is well 

 called, by old shell-backs and South Spainers, the Ladies' 

 Gulf most days fine, and blue, and then a tempest. The 



