In us was exemplified the old adage, "that man is but the creature of circumstances." Who could have foretold that in two short weeks we should think so differently, and yet in that fortnight of dark anxiety, undefined dread and forebodings, more distressing than reality itself, we had seemed to live years of misery. The bodily sufferings we had endured from the heat and burning fever of the scorching sun seemed as nothing in comparison with the horrors we afterwards underwent, and it was almost impossible to imagine that we had ever deprecated the bright beams or complained of the genial warmth now so grateful to our feelings.

What happiness it was to hear the joyous voices of the young ones, as each, in their different manner, expressed their delight at the beautiful change. The gentle ZoË clasped her hands with excited joy; Felix flew into his dear Smart's arms, exclaiming "that the sun was shining most stunningly;" Oscar came softly behind me, and with one arm round my neck, whispered "Dear mama, surely we are saved now;" Lilly and Winny ran from one end of the vessel to the other, singing, in clear ringing voices, the morning hymn; while each and all gazed on the surrounding scene with happiness and delight, worn out as we were with aching arms, blistered hands, and utter weariness, we could not be insensible to the beauty of the little island we were now approaching.

It was seemingly so long since we had seen land that even if it had been a barren rock, we should have hailed it with delight. Yet, with all our love for La Luna, with all our experience of her goodness, beauty, strength, and worth, not a heart beat on board of her, I fear, that did not pant to be on shore. It seemed as if this little island had risen out of the sea for the sole purpose of affording us the rest and peace our shattered condition and worn-out frames demanded. And yet it was curious and half alarming to see this little spot of earth rising so lonely and yet so beautiful in the middle of the sea: like an emerald gem on the vast extent of water it lay calm and alone, no other land in sight, no other object to divide our attention with it. The nearer we approached, the more we became absorbed in our inspection. It grew larger, it appeared higher, we distinguished cliffs or rocks, we noticed ravines, and beheld small bays. The roaring of the breakers was distinctly heard, and the rolling billows, collecting foam as they advanced, seemed to spend their force against the reef of rocks, while they lightly and gently swept on towards the little island, breaking so softly on the sanded shore that they seemed to regard it as a favoured child, whose solitary condition demanded protection and indulgence. Slowly and heavily the laden ship advanced; suddenly we seemed, as it were, to pass a corner of the island, and came upon a view so lovely in its quiet beauty, so unexpected in its richness and colour, so delightful in its homelike appearance, that one cry of admiration burst from all. How exquisite! How lovely! What rocks! What trees! Look, look, a gushing stream, a lovely waterfall! I see birds, bright birds, and beauteous flowers, I am sure! What colours! What a lovely bay! What blue water! What golden sands! Was ever such a scene beheld before by mortal eyes! Such and many more were the exclamations heard on all sides. There hung, in vast variety, gigantic trees, stretching their huge limbs in every direction on the face of the cliff, as if clinging for support. Every here and there verdant spots appeared, like mossy resting places for the weary climber, from whence hung creeping plants, wonderful to us for their size and beauty. In the right side of the bay, the cliffs seemed suddenly rent asunder, and through the opening gleamed a silvery thread, which, advancing to the edge, fell in a rich stream of water from rock to rock, dispersing into a thousand sparkling dancing rills, sometimes lost, then again bursting forth, now shadowed by a huge old tree, then deepening into a quiet smiling pool, until at last tossed, tumbled, and thrown from a descent of a hundred feet, it reunited its troubled waters on the sand, and flowed in tranquil beauty to the sea. The cliffs shelved up higher almost immediately beyond the waterfall, and rounding abruptly on either side towards the sea, they formed a bay or harbour, scarcely half a mile from point to point, though it must have been some miles round it. High on the right hand, which in fact was the sort of corner we had passed, rose abruptly from the sea a gigantic rock separated from the mainland; it had an archway, apparently hollowed by the sea, quite through it, and was curiously picturesque and strange to view. On the left, the bay was also sheltered by rocks, filled with caves and hollow places, but none separated from the mainland. Our captain had been occupied taking soundings ever since we had neared the land, and amidst all our exclamations arose regularly the man's deep voice, proclaiming the depth of the line, with a melodious cadence peculiar to the cry.