ARRIVAL AT PORT ROYAL. 



7 



with such accuracy as to make the passage in the night 

 safe. An error of half a mile in his reckoning might be 

 fatal. 



The thermometer stood at 80° as we rounded Mayaguana, 

 and many of the passengers, like myself, were imprudent 

 enough to throw off their flannel under clothing. Sad 

 experience has since taught me, that flannels are no where 

 of so much importance to the health, as in tropical 

 climates. 



At seven o'clock on the morning of the 10th, we were 

 boarded by a pilot, as we entered Kingston harbor. He 

 was a mulatto, intelligent looking, and about 25 years of 

 age. He seemed rather overcome by the good luck which 

 had befallen him in getting so big a ship. He soon, how- 

 ever, recovered his self-possession, gave his orders to the » 

 man at the wheel, and conducted us safely up in front of 

 Port Royal. 



Before the ship had fairly stopped, we were surrounded 

 with boats filled with negroes, some dressed decently and 

 some indecently, and some not at all. They all talked at 

 once a language which they designed for English, but as 

 it would have been unintelligible to me under the most 

 favorable circumstances, of course, amid all this confusion, 

 it was like the apostle's preaching to the Greeks — foolish- 

 ness. 



Some of the boats were filled with oranges, bananas, 



