198 
CALIFORNIA ILLUSTRATED. 
playing the coquette, now hiding her face, and now casting 
upon us one of her most bewitching smiles. 
27th. (Sunday). It is one year this morning since I took 
leave of home and sailed for California. During my absence, 
I have passed through what has cost many a life, and once 
almost felt the last pulsation. But now I am in a fair way of 
being restored to my friends, in improved condition and health. 
I have not heard one word from home in six months; my 
anxiety can better be imagined than expressed. I can only 
hope they are alive. By observation at 12 M., we are 420 miles 
from Kingston, the only port we shall make on our passage home. 
28th. Still a strong wind and heavy sea. We are running 
under fore sails and fore staysail. By observation at 12 M., we 
had run 174 miles in twenty-four hours. 
26th. Still a heavy sea on, and a stiff breeze. We are under 
a fall press of canvas, running eight knots. 11 A.M., in sight 
of land. We soon make the highlands, and are running for 
Port Royal. We have a pilot already on board, he having ac¬ 
companied our steamer to Chagres. Port Royal is situated on a 
low island in the mouth of a small bay, upon the head of which 
Kingston is situated. We passed an armed brig, a steamer-of- 
war, seventy-four gun ship, revenue-cutter, all displaying the red 
cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes off towards us; 
our wheels are turned back, and we are boarded by an officer in 
full uniform. After the usual inspection, our wheels again 
revolved, and we moved on up the bay, or river, in the direc¬ 
tion of Kingston. After running a mile, the above-mentioned 
officer is astonished at learning that our steamer is under 
weigh; he came forward and wished to be put on shore— 
stupid fellow. We are standing inland, with high mountains 
on our right, capped with clouds. We now pass fortifications, 
and bearing to the right; our pilot sings out “ steady !” we are 
now within full view of Kingston, and heading directly for the 
town; “steady!” “port!” steamer falls off, bringing the town 
on our larboard bow —“hard a port /” on we steam—“steady !” 
We are now passing a large fortification ; we see houses nestling 
in orange groves on the side of the mountain. The town is so 
densely shaded with cocoa-nut and other tropical trees, that it is 
barely visible. We are drawing very near, the inhabitants 
