2 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
ferent stages was the force of this river through the 
sea. Though my first experience with this current 
was in January, when the Orinoco was at its lowest,. 
and the consequent marine flow at its weakest stage, 
I yet had sufficient proof of its strength to understand 
how it was that vessels of all sizes were sometimes 
many days in making ports but few miles apart. 
We left the port of St. Pierre, Martinique, for that of 
Roseau, Dominica, the distance being less than thirty- 
five miles, and the channel separating the islands but 
twenty in width. Late in the afternoon we hoisted 
sail, taking a fair land-breeze from the mountains 
and getting a fresh blow from the trade-winds draw- 
ing through the channel, and at midnight were close 
under the southern point of Doniinica, with a fair 
prospect, when I went below, of landing early in the 
morning. 
The captain, a good fellow, had given up to me,*as 
the only white man on board the sloop, the only berth 
the cabin afforded. Into that I crawled, with a lurk- 
ing fear of centipedes and scorpions, and fell asleep. 
Soon the wheezy pumps awoke me, and a stream 
of water trickling through the uncalked deck gave 
assurance that the water in the hold was being 
pumped out. As this process was repeated every. 
half-hour, my sleep was not so sound that I did not 
frequently visit the deck, and at each succeeding 
visit note with alarm that the land line grew dimmer. 
Daylight revealed that we were much farther away 
from shore than at midnight, surely drifting to the 
north-west, with sail flapping idly and rudder useless. 
The sun was late in showing himself, for he had to 
climb well up the heavens ere he could look over the 
