36 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



close up to the bench, and putting him outside to catch 

 the first kick, drew up against the stern of the bungo 

 and went to sleep. 



At half past seven we weighed anchor, or hauled up 

 a large stone, and started with oars. My boatmen 

 were peculiar in their way of wearing pantaloons. 

 First they pulled them off, folded them about a foot 

 wide and two feet long, and then suspended them 

 over the belts of their machetes like little aprons. At 

 nine o'clock we reached the mouth of the river. Here 

 we hoisted sail, and while the wind was fair did very 

 well. The sun was scorching, and under the awning 

 the heat was insufferable. Following the coast, at eleven 

 o'clock we were opposite the Volcano of Cosaguina, a 

 long, dark mountain range, with another ridge running 

 below it, and then an extensive plain covered with lava 

 to the sea. The wind headed us, and in order to weath- 

 er the point of headland from which we could lay our 

 course, the boatmen got into the water to tow the bungo. 

 I followed them, and with a broad-brimmed straw hat 

 to protect me from the sun, I found the water was de- 

 lightful. During this time one of the men brought sand 

 from the shore to break the roundness of the bottom of 

 the boat, and give the mules a foothold. Unable to 

 weather the point, at half past one we came to anchor, 

 and very soon every man on board was asleep. 



I woke with the pilot's legs resting on my shoulder. 

 It was rather an undignified position, but no one saw it. 

 Before me was the Volcano of Cosaguina, with its field 

 of lava and its desolate shore, and not a living being 

 was in sight except my sleeping boatmen. Five years 

 before, on the shores of the Mediterranean, and at the 

 foot of Mount Etna, I read in a newspaper an account 

 of the eruption of this volcano. Little did I then ever 



