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who shared my state-room. The Empire City is the "ne plus ultra” of steamers, and Captain Wilson worthy to command her. She is almost a world in size, furnished with the greatest magnificence, her bill of fare comprising the luxuries of all climates. The Steamers Alabama from New Orleans, and Falcon from New York, came in, in the afterpart of the day.
25th. The dust by the Oregon has just arrived from Panama, and as soon as it is on board we shall
anchor. There are $1,600,000, besides what is in the hands of passengers. Bungoes are coming off with passengers, and as it is blowing a gale, the steamer rolls tremendously, making it almost impossible for passengers to board her. The greatest dexterity is required, for, after reaching the steps, one is in imminent danger of being swept off by the next sea. Ladies were drawn up in chairs, as were also the invalids. In the afterpart of the day, I had the extreme pleasure of assisting on board my friend E. W. Clark, jr., I had left him in his berth on board the Everett, in a very feeble state; but the tropical fruits had operated upon his system like magic, and he had become able to cross the Isthmus on horseback. He eventually recovered, and was restored to his friends. Mr. Lewis came on board also. He had lost the use of one of his legs, and was borne across on a litter. One of our fellow passengers on the Everett was less fortunate; he lived two days after coming to anchor, when he expired and was taken on shore at Panama, and buried.
26th. The British Steamer, Severn, has just come to anchor, also the Cherokee from New York. At 3 P.M., the Alabama moved off in the direction of New Orleans, crowded with passengers. The smoke is beginning to loom up from our chimney, our quarter boats are hauled up; soon the windlass draws our anchor from its bed, and our steamer raises her head, and makes her first leap for home. We passed the Cherokee and received three hearty cheers, then the Falcon, then the Severn, and were soon on our course, in the direction of Kingston, Jamaica. Chagres is situated in lat. 99, 21', long. 8°, 4'. We were now fairly launched, homeward bound; the waves of the Caribbean sea fleeing from us, as if fearful of being drawn into the vortex of our wheel. I remained on deck until a late hour; we had a fresh breeze and heavy sea; the moon was almost full, and playing the coquette, now hiding her face, and now casting upon us one of her most bewitching smiles.
27th. (Sunday). It is one year this morning since I took leave òf home and sailed for California. During my absence, I have passed through what has cost many a life, and once almost felt the last pulsation. But now I am in a fair way of being restored to my friends, in improved condition and health. I have not heard one word from home in six months; my anxiety can better be imagined than expressed. I can only hope they are alive. By observation at 12 m., we are 420 miles from Kingston, the only port we shall make on our passage home.
28th. Still a strong wind and heavy sea. We are running under fore sails and fore staysail. By observation at 12 M., we had run 174 miles in twenty-four hours.
26th. Still a heavy sea on, and a stiff breeze. We are under a full press of canvas, running eight knots. 11 A.M., in sight of land. We soon make the highlands, and are running for Port Royal. We have a pilot already on board, he having accompanied our steamer to Chagres. Port Royal is situated on a low island in the mouth of a small bay, upon the head of which Kingston is situated. We passed an armed brig, a steamer-ofwar, seventy-four gun ship, revenue-cutter, all displaying the red cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes off towards us; our wheels are turned back, and we are boarded by an officer in full uniform. After the usual inspection, our wheels again revolved, and we moved on up the bay, or river, in the direction of Kingston. After running a mile, the above-mentioned officer is astonished at learning that our steamer is under weigh; he came forward and wished to be put on shorestupid fellow. We are standing inland, with high mountains on our right, capped with clouds. We now pass fortifications, and bearing to the right; our pilot sings out "steady!" we are now within full view of Kingston, and heading directly for the town; "steady !" "port !” steamer falls off, bringing the town on our larboard bow—"hard a port !" on we steam—"steady!" We are now passing a large fortification ; we see houses nestling in orange groves on the side of the mountain. The town is so densely shaded with cocoa-nut and other tropical trees, that it is barely visible. We are drawing very near, the inhabitants