steamer reposed from her labours in the greatest security. Having picked out the best plank on the cabin floor and wrapped my martial cloak around me, I went to roost after a long and animated day.

[In margin – Trip to Mongonui]

Tuesday: 13th: A little after 5., I was up and stirring. The morning was moist, but much more moderate, the copious torrents of rain, and the continuous tempest of thunder and lightning, which prevailed during the night, having caused an abatement of the storm. Steam up, the anchor was weighed and we approached within stone’s throw of the shore. We had three fathoms under foot, and on either bow, two of the prettiest, cosiest, sandy coves, branching off angularly to the right and left, running some little distance into the land, and affording the most perfect security for small craft. Nothing could be more inviting than the prospect here presented, the rocks were dotted with timber and vegetation to the water’s edge, the verdant and variegated foliage covering cliff and came with a charming fringe of living green. Steamed out of this fairy nook at 7 a.m.; but had scarce left its sheltering arms, ere we were again exposed to a strong head wind and short and cross sea. Our little barky struggled gallantly against both, the wind abating as day advanced and veering to N.W. by N. The breeze, however, was far from steady hauling again and again into the old quarter, and buffeting us sadly. We hung off the Hen and Chickens for a long time, passing at noon between the largest of the islets and the Sail Rock, an unusual mass of upheaved matter, its edges exhibiting numerous facial profiles, its apex split into two cones, whence its name, as it looks, at a distance, like a fore-an-aft schooner close hauled. The hen