For a week or ten days after crossing the line, we had the usual variety of calms, squalls, head winds, and fair winds,—­ at one time braced sharp upon the wind, with a taut bowline, and in an hour after slipping quietly along, with a light breeze over the taffrail, and studding-sails set out on both sides,—­ until we fell in with the northeast trade-winds; which we did on the afternoon of—­

Sunday, August 28th, in lat. 12 N. The trade-wind clouds had been in sight for a day or two previously, and we expected to take the trades every hour.  The light southerly breeze, which had been breathing languidly during the first part of the day, died away toward noon, and in its place came puffs from the northeast, which caused us to take in our studding-sails and brace up; and, in a couple of hours more, we were bowling gloriously along, dashing the spray far ahead and to leeward, with the cool, steady northeast trades freshening up the sea, and giving us as much as we could carry our royals to.  These winds blew strong and steady, keeping us generally upon a bowline, as our course was about north-northwest; and, sometimes, as they veered a little to the eastward, giving us a chance at a main top-gallant studding-sail, and sending us well to the northward, until—­

Sunday, September 4th, when they left us in lat. 22 N., lon. 51 W., directly under the tropic of Cancer.

For several days we lay ``humbugging about’’ in the Horse latitudes, with all sorts of winds and weather, and occasionally, as we were in the latitude of the West Indies,—­ a thunder-storm.  It was hurricane month, too, and we were just in the track of the tremendous hurricane of 1830, which swept the North Atlantic, destroying almost everything before it.

The first night after the trade-winds left us, while we were in the latitude of the island of Cuba, we had a specimen of a true tropical thunder-storm.  A light breeze had been blowing from aft during the first part of the night, which gradually died away, and before midnight it was dead calm, and a heavy black cloud had shrouded the whole sky.  When our watch came on deck at twelve o’clock, it was as black as Erebus; the studding-sails were all taken in, and the royals furled; not a breath was stirring; the sails hung heavy and motionless from the yards; and the stillness and the darkness, which was almost palpable, were truly appalling.  Not a word was spoken, but every one stood as though waiting for something to happen.  In a few minutes the mate came forward, and in a low tone, which was almost a whisper, told us to haul down the jib.  The fore and mizzen top-gallant sails were taken in in the same silent manner; and we lay motionless upon the water, with an uneasy expectation, which, from the long suspense, became actually painful.  We could hear the captain walking the deck, but it was too dark to see anything more than one’s hand before the face.  Soon the mate came forward again, and gave an order, in a low tone, to clew up the main