THE TROPIC BIRD. 



289 



there. I once made the attempt, as will be seen in 

 the sequel; but fortune failed me: verifying the 

 remark of Sancho Panza, "Tal vez hay, que se 

 busca una cosa, y se halla otra," — sometimes we go 

 in search of one thing, and find another. 



Having hired a canoe and seven negroes in the 

 town of Cayenne, I set off at six in the evening, and 

 proceeded through the waters of the interior, where 

 they flow betwixt the island of Cayenne and the 

 adjacent continent, calculating to come out on the 

 sea-coast about the break of day, should things go 

 on well. It rained piteously during the greater 

 part of the night ; and I do not remember ever to 

 have had such wretched accommodations, or to 

 have been exposed for so long a spell to such an 

 incessant soaking. Soon after the dawn of day, we 

 were on the sea-coast to windward ; and about ten 

 o*clock the ebbing waters left us high and dry, upon 

 an almost boundless mud-flat. Here we lay all day 

 long, without any chance of returning to the shore, 

 or of getting out to sea. 



We were not surprised that every thing had got 

 wet, for during our nocturnal progress it had taken 

 the labour of one negro to bale the water out of 

 the canoe. 



I felt grateful for a sunny day to dry our clothes, 

 after such a night of rain. The day, indeed, was 

 scorching. A blazing sun beat full upon ns, and 

 gave to the surrounding mud -flat the appearance of 

 an immeasurable looking-glass. On every side of 

 us were egrettes and herons, scarlet curlews and 

 spoonbills, and other sea fowl, in countless num- 

 u 



