liver and kidneys, and suspended the body to a tree, to be left until our return. In another half hour we had crossed the dividing ridge of the island, and began to descend the southern side. Through an opening in the foliage I caught a glimpse of the sea, and climbed a tree to obtain a look-out. I found that we were on the brow of a very steep ridge, about 1,500 feet in height, looking down upon a small bay, opening to the south-east. Beyond its southern promontory the sea was again visible, with the group of Bailly's Islands in the distance. The mountains descended in precipices to the water, so that access was impossible, except near the head of the bay, where two abrupt ravines, or rather chasms, showed a speck of sandy beach at their meeting.

The Otaheitan professed to know the way, and set out, creeping slowly down the steep, we following, forcing our way on our hands and knees through almost impervious thickets, until a sudden light broke through the wilderness, and we found ourselves on the brink of a precipice, the height of which we could not then estimate, though I afterwards saw that it must be near two hundred feet. From its base the mountain sloped away so steeply to the brink of other precipices below, that we seemed to swing in the air, suspended over the great depth which intervened between us and the sea. My head reeled for a moment, as I found myself perched. on such a giddy height, and either retreat or descent seemed impossible. The guide, it was evident, had taken us too far to the left, and it was necessary partly to retrace our steps, in order to regain a position which would enable us to avoid the precipice. We clung cautiously to the strong grass which grew on the brink, and thus crept along for about two hundred yards, over a place where the least impetus would have sent us headlong hundreds of feet below. On this part of the mountain I found a shrub with a dark, glossy leaf, which diffused a powerful balsamic odour. Finally, attaining a point where the precipice ceased, we commenced going downward at the angle of about 60 deg. The soil was so slippery, and the vines and horny leaves of the palms hung so low, that the best way of descending was to lie flat on one's back, and slide down until brought up by a thicket too dense to get through.

With an infinite deal of labour, and at the risk of our necks, we at last reached the ravine, or chasm, and hoped that the worst of our toils were over. But the worst was yet to come. I can place implicit faith in Herman Melville's account of the precipices of Typee, after our own experience, which, in fact, bore a striking resemblance to his. The ravine descended by a succession of rocky steps from ten to forty and fifty feet in perpendicular height, down which we clambered with hands and feet, often trusting the soundness of our bones, if not our very lives, to the frail braneh of a tree, or to the hold of a root dangling from the brink. As

from the top of a tower, we looked on the beach, lying at our very feet, and seemingly to be reached by a single leap, though still far below. Down, down we went into the black depths of the chasm, in constant fear of reaching a wall which we could not pass, until at the junction of another ravine, we came upon the hewn stump of a tree, a sign that others before us had penetrated the wilderness, and heard the roar of the surf near at hand. The seaman, Terry, who had accompanied me on the exploring trip through Loo-Choo, and myself were considerably in advance of the rest of the party. Terry was a man after my own heart, for such an expedition. Nothing could daunt him, and no hardships could tire him out. We sat down on the beach, under an overhanging rock, and looked back on the steep down which we had climbed. When I saw it from below, and discerned the last of the party standing on the brink of one of the crags, showing us what our own position had been, I could scarcely believe our descent possible.

The guides called the place "South-East Bay." They stated that it was frequently visited by whalers for wood and water; which accounts for the stump of a tree, and the presence of a patch of tomatoes, which we found growing in a wild state along the banks of the stream. The fruit was about the size of a cherry, and very fresh and palatable. When all had arrived, we built a fire under the eaves of the rocks, and while the dry drift-wood was burning to embers, took a bath in the sea. The water was deliciously cool, and the long, heavy swells rolled directly in from the Pacific and broke over our heads. We broiled the boar's liver on pieces of coral, and this, with a ship's ration of salt pork and biscuit, and a few handfuls of raw tomatoes, made us a most palatable repast. By the time we had sufficiently rested, and Mr. Heine had made a sketch of the Bay, it was two o'clock, and I therefore broke up the camp and started homeward.

The natives said that there was no other way of returning except the road by which we came. We all shrank from the idea of climbing that terrible path, but there was no help for it. Up we must go, and up we went, clinging for life to the roots of the trees, or the sharp little corners of the rocks with one hand, while we clutched our carbines with the other. There was not a breath of air: the thermometer must have shown at least 90°, and the toil was so severe that one of the party became ill, and lagged behind. We were obliged to halt every five minutes, for two others also began to show signs of exhaustion, and were more than once on the point of giving out. But all things must have an end, and at length we reached the summit ridge, whence the descent to the ravine where we had left the wild boar was comparatively easy, after what we had already gone through. The Otheitan shouldered the boar, and we returned, with but one or two halts to rest the

exhausted members of the party, to the native huts in the valley, where we arrived a little before six o'clock. One of the gentlemen was by this time so much spent that he hired the Otheitan to carry him in a canoe round the Kanaka settlement at the southern end of Port Lloyd, the rest of us taking a path which led thither by land.

The evening was cloudy and the rain began to fall, which hastened our departure. Ascending the same ravine by which we had reached the valley, as far as the taro patch, the Judge turned suddenly to the left and began climbing the slippery side of the mountain at an angle of about 50°. He declared that this was the usual road, but my eyes, although somewhat exercised in woodcraft, could not detect the least trace of a path. Under the thick clusters of sago-palms was a dense undergrowth of fern, in which we could gain no foothold, and were continually falling flat on our faces. The Judge himself began to feel fagged by this time, and frequently proposed that we should rest. The others were in nowise averse to this, but I felt little fatigue from the labours of the day, and was so anxious to reach the Kanaka settlement before dark that I hurried them onward. After gaining the summit the way was easier, and we met with occasional faint traces of a path. Passing over an undulating tract for a mile or more, we came upon the western slope of the island, overlooking Southern Head and the entrance of Port Lloyd. I now saw that a deep, picturesque bight made in below the Head to the mouth of the valley we had left, and that the shortest and most usual route of the natives between the two settlements, was by sea. The sides of the hills we traversed were covered with a deep, coarse grass, waist-high, and so thick that we fairly waded through it. It was a fortunate circumstance for us that there are no venomous reptiles on the island.

I was in advance, the others being scattered along the side of the hill, when I happened to notice that one of the party was missing. I sent back the coolie, and then the Judge, and finally ordered a halt, while I returned to look for him. After calling and searching for some time without effect, he was at last found lying in the bottom of the glen, asleep, as he stated. He stumbled along with us for a short time, when he tumbled into the grass, declaring that he was utterly exhausted, and would remain there all night. Finding that we could not get him to go forward, we picked him up by main force, and carried him to the summit of the hill, where I left a man in charge of him while we hastened down, in order to gain the flag-staff above the Kanaka settlement, and fire a volley to bring a boat off for us. We plunged through the cane-fields, stumbled up the hill, and found ourselves on a high cliff, overlooking the bay. The big hull of the Susquehanna was barely visible in the darkness. We fired half-a-dozen volleys,

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when we heard the report of musketry from the base of the Paps, at the head of the bay. It was, as we conjectured, the party of Dr. Fahs, signalling like ourselves for a boat. At length, fearful lest our signal should not have been heard, I sent the marine in a canoe to bring a boat. He met the first cutter half-way, but the tide being out, she was obliged to anchor off the reef in front of the settlement, and send the canoe to take us in small companies.

We waited half-an-hour for our missing comrade, and finally reached the ship's side about ten o'clock, weary and famished. Though I suffered less, I believe, than most of the others, it was certainly the hardest day's work of my life.

CHAPTER XIX.

VOYAGE TO JAPAN, AND RECEPTION THERE.

On our return to Loo-Choo, where we arrived on the 24th of June, we found the Plymouth in the harbour. She had left Shanghai in comparative quiet, and with no present apprehension of an attack. She was most welcome, on account of having brought the mails for the squadron. After having been seven months without news from home, the delight with which I received a large package of letters can only be comprehended by those who have had similar experiences. As all the vessels composing the squadron at that time were now at the rendezvous, immediate preparations were made for our departure to Japan. Owing to the foresight with which the vessels had been supplied, little was needed except a stock of fresh provisions, which the Loo-Choo authorities, after some delay and equivocation, furnished us at double the ordinary price.

The squadron, consisting of the Susquehanna, Plymouth, and -Saratoga-the two sloops of war being taken in tow by the two steamers-sailed from the harbour of Napa-Kiang, on the 2nd of July. On the night of the 3rd and morning of the 4th, we passed the large island of Ohosima, part of the Kingdom of Loo-Choo. This island, which has been known to the Dutch, through the Japanese charts, and was seen by the French Admiral Cecille in 1846, is not found on the English charts. The U. S. ship Preble, in 1849, supposed she had made the first discovery of it, and gave it the name of "Preble Island." It has never been visited by a foreign vessel. It is thirty or forty miles long,

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mountainous, and thickly inhabited. After passing it we had very sultry weather, until we reached Japan, the thermometer standing at 84 deg. at night, and 88 deg. to 90 deg. at noon, in the coolest place on board.

At daybreak, on the morning of July 8, we first made land, which proved to be Cape Idzu, a lofty headland on the coast of Niphon, not far south of the entrance of the great Bay of Jeddo. The Brocken and Vulcan Islands were in sight on our right. After passing Rock Island, we stood in nearer to the shore, which foomed up grandly through the hazy atmosphere. The promontory of Idzu is a group of mountains, rising to the height of five or six thousand feet, their summits scarred with slides, and their sides mostly covered with forests, though here and there we could discern patches of cultivated land. There were a number of fishing junks off the coast, some of which put back again as we approached. The wind was ahead, we had all sails furled and the yards squared, and the sight of our two immense steamers-the first that ever entered the Japanese waters-dashing along at the rate of nine knots an hour, must have struck the natives with the utmost astonishment.

Leaving the mountains of Idzu behind us, we stood across the mouth of the Bay of Kowadzu (as the southern half of the bifurcate Bay of Jeddo is called), toward Cape Sagami, at the extremity of the promontory which divides the two. The noon observation gave lat. 34 deg. 57 min. N. and soon afterwards Cape Sagami came in sight. We lay to while the Captains of the Mississippi, Plymouth, and Saratoga came on board, to receive instructions, and then resumed our course. The decks were cleared for action, the guns shotted, the small arms put in complete order, and every precaution taken, in case we should meet with a hostile reception. Near Cape Sagami we descried a large town, and as we came within two miles of the shore, a number of junks, amounting to twelve or fifteen, put off, with the evident intention of visiting us. Each one bore a large banner, upon which characters were inscribed. The rapidity of our progress, against the wind, soon left them behind, no doubt completely nonplussed as to the invisible power which bore us away from them. The Bay now began to be thickly studded with fishing smacks, with here and there a large junk.

The shores of Sagami are exceedingly picturesque and beautiful. They rise in abrupt bluffs, two hundred feet in height, gashed with narrow dells of the brightest verdure, which slope steeply down to the water, while the country behind rises in undulating hills, displaying a charming alternation of groves and cultivated fields. In the distance rose mountain ranges, receding behind each other until the vapour hid their farthest summits. The eastern coast, belonging to the province of Awa, now came in