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now to look decidedly serious. I had but three days of fuel on board, and, upon consulting my chart, I found that I was still 550 miles from my port, current taken into account. It was not possible for the dull little Summer to make this distance, in the given time, if the wind, and current should continue of the same strength. I resolved to try her, however, another night, hoping that some change for the better might take place. My journal tells the tale of that night as follows:— August 11th.—The morning has dawned with a fresh breeze, and rather tough sea, into which we have been plunging all night, making but little headway. The genius of the east wind refuses to permit even steam to invade his ___domain, and drives us back, with disdain. His ally, the current, has retarded us sixty miles in the last twenty-four hours! I now no longer hesitated, but directing the engineer to let his fires go down, turned my ship's head, to the westward, and made sail; it being my intention