WHALING VOYAGE. 
209 
such a Cretan labyrinth, that I could neither find my 
way to the place of my destination nor to that which I 
had left, and which to have unravelled in such a night 
would have required the clue of Ariadne, with all the 
love she bore to Theseus. I had made some inquiries 
at the outskirts of the town, having entered several 
houses for that purpose ; but now I was surrounded 
with trees and fields, and I had not seen a house for 
upwards of an hour, but hearing at last the sound of 
a guitar and of several voices indulging in shouts of 
mirth, I directed my mule to the spot; and when I 
arrived I perceived a number of people engaged in the 
court-yard of a house, merry-making ; some were dan- 
cing, others were singing, while a few thrummed upon 
the iC light guitar . 55 I soon entered the festive throng, 
and endeavoured to make myself understood in inquiring 
my way to the port of Coquimbo, but they either could 
not or would not understand my questions, which cer- 
tainly were put in wretchedly bad Spanish, and at last, 
after many fruitless attempts to procure the information 
I required, they induced me to sit on a wooden bench at 
the root of a wide-spreading fruit tree, to observe their 
rejoicings. I shall never forget the tune they thrummed 
upon the guitars, or the agile and graceful movements of 
the dancers, or the merry volubility of their songs, nor 
shall I ever cease to remember the condescension of the 
ladies who formed a part of the assembly. After they 
had finished one of their dances, one of the young 
women came from the group, and offered me a small 
quantity of a liqueur wdiich she called in Spanish “ aqua- 
