own colours and fired a blank cartridge.  This hove her to, when we sent a boat on board of her.  She proved to be the barque Parker Cook, of and from Boston, bound to Cayes.  This was a very timely capture, as we were running very short of provisions, and the prize was provision-laden.  Got on board from her a quantity of pork, cheese, crackers, &c.; and at 10 P.M. illuminated the shores of San Domingo with a flambeau furnished by wicked men who would gladly see another San Domingo revolution in our unhappy country.

In the afternoon the weather became angry, and the wind blew fresh, raising a considerable sea.  As we were in the bight of Samana, I felt a little uneasy about drifting too near the shore.  These are some of the anxieties of a commander that his officers scarcely ever know anything about.  Our prize was burned off Cape Raphael.  I did not turn in until near midnight; was called two hours afterwards, upon having run a prescribed distance; turned in again, and had just fallen comfortably asleep, when the officer of the deck came down in great haste to inform me that a large ship was standing down directly for us.  We were hove to, and as the moon had gone down, and the night was dark, I knew she must be close aboard of us.  I immediately ordered the maintopsail to be filled, and hurrying on a few clothes, sprang on deck.  At a glance I saw that the danger was passed, as the intruder was abaft the beam, running to leeward.  Wore round and followed him.

Monday, December 1st.—­A stiff trade, with squall clouds.  A whirlwind passed near us.  We had just time to take in the port studding sails, which had been set in chase of the unwelcome disturber of my rest last night.  The chase proved to be a Spanish hermaphrodite brig. * * * * Land in sight on the port beam, and at noon the cape just ahead.

Tuesday, December 2nd. * * * * Running down the land.  Off the Grange at noon.  Last night, at ten o’clock, a sail was reported on the port quarter, nearly astern, running down before the wind like ourselves.  Having lights up, and looming up large, I called all hands to quarters and cleared the ship for action, pivoting on the port side, and loading the guns.  As the stranger ranged up nearly abeam of us, distant about eight hundred yards, we discovered him to be a heavy steamer, under steam, and with all studding sails set on both sides.  Here was a fix!  We had no steam ourselves, and our propeller was triced up!

A few minutes, however, decided our suspense.  From the quiet movement of the steamer on her course, without shortening sail, or otherwise, so far as we could see, making preparation for battle, it was quite evident that he was not an enemy.  He was a ship of war—­probably a Spaniard, bound from San Domingo to Cuba.  My first intention was to range up alongside and speak him, and for this purpose I set the foresail and topgallant sails.  But we were soon left far astern, and the stranger was out of sight long before we could have got up steam and lowered the propeller in chase.