At the hotel in Lima the Professor and his friends found the supercargo of the ship who had come to hunt up the passengers. The captain had been in trouble; the crew having mutinied and refused to work because they were not allowed the privilege of a cruise on shore. The controversy between the quarter-deck and the forecastle was finally adjusted, and the crew agreed to go to work on condition of afterwards having one day of liberty. The supercargo said that they were now on shore in Callao, and that the vessel would sail on the following morning.

Upon receiving this information, the passengers made preparations to proceed on foot to Callao; it being impossible to obtain any vehicle on that day, as everything which had wheels or hoofs had gone to the bull-fight and had been left behind in the general stampede which ensued. The Professor inquired for M. T. Pate, but he was not in the hotel, and from information received, it was supposed that he had already left the city and proceeded to the port.

Lima, unlike most American cities, is encompassed by a wall. Just beyond the gate, which opens on the six miles of level road leading to Callao, are a number of mounds heaped up by the ancient inhabitants of the country for the purpose of hiding the remains of mortality. But as these poor pagans were unwilling to leave the world as unadorned as they had entered it, numerous excavations had been made by their Christian successors, who had stripped them of their heathenish ornaments, and carried them off, to be converted into the images of saints.

The Professor and his companions turned aside from the road and proceeded to an inspection of the place.

Hercules had already thrust his long neck into one of the excavations, when, with a loud exclamation, he drew suddenly back as if he had certainly seen a sight. The Long Green Boy now peeped into the aperture, and, starting back, looked as if he were about to exclaim, "Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!" But lo! it starts up—it moves towards them—long, lean, and spectral!—in robes as white as the driven snow, like the shivering shade of an ancient Inca come hither to mourn over the extinction of his race.

Hercules assumes the posture of a racer ready to make a desperate spring, and only waiting for the word "Go!" The Professor throws himself in the attitude of Hamlet in his interesting interview with the ghost. Botts clutches the hilt of his bowie-knife and stands prepared to battle with whatever may come forth. But hold! rash man, forbear! No horrible apparition of an unbaptized infidel is this, but a pious Christian and a poor countryman in distress. It is the unfortunate M. T. Pate stalking forth with no covering except a single shirt.

Finding no congenial society in the city, he had wandered hither to meditate among the tombs. His reveries were rudely interrupted by certain grim-looking fellows carrying carbines, one of which was presented to his breast with an observation which, for want of an interpreter, he was unable to comprehend. Poor Pate was too much awed to animadvert upon the sinfulness of such proceedings on Sunday; and these bold Sabbath-breakers, having rifled his pockets, stripped him of all that he had, and left him in the condition in which he was found.

Having heard his dolorous story, the Professor exclaimed,—

"But, Mr. Pate, what is to be done? You cannot travel along the public highway in that condition of nudity."

"If he does," said Toney, "the people will suppose that he is a model artist."

"The weather is hot," said Tom Seddon. "And he will not feel uncomfortable with nothing on but his shirt."

"If Pate goes into Callao, in a nude condition, he will frighten the women into fits," said Toney.

"And he will be arrested and put in the calaboose," said the Professor.

"What is to be done?" asked Toney. "Our trunks are in Callao, and there is no spare clothing among us."

"Mr. Pate can have my drawers," said Wiggins. And he pulled them off and handed them to his unfortunate friend.

"And I will let him have my coat," said Hercules, pulling it off.

"That coat is like charity," said the Professor.

"How so?" asked Toney.

"It covers a multitude of faults," said the Professor, pointing to the giant's linen coat, which completely enveloped the person of Pate and hung down to his heels.

"What will Mr. Pate do for a pair of boots?" said Moses.

"Never mind," said Tom Seddon, "the road is sandy and will not hurt his bare feet."

"And when he comes to stony places I will carry him on my back," said Hercules.

"Come along, Mr. Pate," said Toney.

"And when you return from California with your gold you should by all means carefully avoid these localities," said the Professor.

Poor Pate uttered not a word in response to these advisory remarks, but all were convinced by the quivering of his lip and other outward signs that he was inwardly vowing that he would do so.

They now hurried on; Toney, Tom, and the Professor leading the advance, and when about half-way between Lima and Callao, they espied a curious kind of cavalry coming up the road. It was the ship's company ashore on liberty and making the most of that inestimable blessing. Each jolly tar was mounted on a little donkey, and at the head of the cavalcade rode Old Nick, having a leadline in his hand; and this steady and experienced seaman, apprehensive of shoals or hidden rocks, kept constantly heaving the lead and calling out the number of fathoms each time that it fell. Once he was heard to cry out "No bottom!" and down went his donkey in a hole; but the dauntless navigator assured his shipmates that, though the little craft had her lee-rail under, she would soon right up without losing a stick of her timber; and the result was just as he had said.

"Where is Pate?" asked the Professor.

"Yonder he is," said Toney, pointing to Pate, about a quarter of a mile behind, mounted on the back of Hercules, with Wiggins walking on one side and Perch on the other; Botts and Moses bringing up the rear.

"Hercules is carrying him over the stony road," said Tom.

"The giant has a big body and a big heart," said the Professor; "but he shall not be treated like a beast of burden. Pate shall ride Old Nick's donkey."

"Old Nick will not give up his donkey," said Toney.

"We will see," said the Professor. And he advanced near the spot where the huge sailor sat on the little animal with his feet touching the ground. Just at that moment Old Nick gave the bridle a jerk.

"Oh—oh! You hurt! Get off my back, you drunken lubber!" exclaimed a voice issuing from the mouth of the beast. Old Nick leaped off and fled down the road.

"Avast there!" cried Tim.

"Hush up, you old fool! you are drunk too!" said Tim's donkey. The sailor rolled off.

"Get off my back!" exclaimed another donkey.

"Get off! get off! you ought all to be hung at the yard-arm for mutiny!" shouted each donkey in succession. With wild yells of terror, the sailors fled down the road to Callao, ran at full speed through the town to the water's edge, leaped into a boat and went on board the vessel.

"Here, Mr. Pate, mount on this donkey," said the Professor, as Pate came riding along on the back of Hercules. The Professor selected an animal for himself, and he and Pate rode into Callao, and halted at the hotel, where they had left their trunks when they had started for Lima.

At the hotel, Pate retired to a room and made his toilet; but when he again appeared he was so teased and tormented by certain wicked wags that he abruptly left the hotel and rushed into the street. He was seen no more. The passengers went on board and the ship was ready to sail. The captain went on shore and made inquiry for Pate. Nothing could be heard of him, and, after losing several days in a fruitless search, the ship finally put to sea.

During the voyage there were numerous discussions in relation to his probable fate; but ultimately the opinion prevailed that he had gone back to Lima, to pay his bill at the hotel, and had thus been left behind. The ship sailed on without him, and after a voyage of two months, passed through the Golden Gate, and anchored in the harbor of San Francisco.