come to the conclusion that he was not such a bad man, after all.
The forecastle of the Rainbow was a damp, dark, and narrow little space in the bow of the ship. There was not room enough between where our chests were lashed for ten men to stand. Here we ate, drank, slept, smoked, took everything as it came along, and derived all the pleasure we possibly could. The crew were a manly, jolly set. I acquired more practical seamanship during the eight months while on board the Rainbow than in the whole seven years while in the navy, where a man or boy learns nothing but to pull, haul, splice, pass the balls, handle the sails, make grummets, work a Matthew Walker, a Turk’s head, and tie a hard, square, hangman’s, or a true lover’s knot. None but able seamen are allowed to take a trick at the wheel or work on the rigging.
July 23. Our good ship has been making rapid progress towards home. To-day we crossed the equator, or equinoctial line. The Magellan Clouds and the constellation of the Southern Cross are growing fainter and fainter in the distance, while northward we see many of our old familiar friends that have cheered us in our night watches — Jupiter, the Pleiades, and the Big Dipper.
August 8. This evening in latitude 7° north, just above the northern horizon, we made the North Star. It was shining as brightly as ever.
August 10. Weather fair, with a strong breeze blowing from the sou’east. Our ship was making fourteen knots an hour. We carried this breeze until the 18th, when it commenced to slacken. In the evening caught a
