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CROSSING TO FLORES.

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common practice among the islanders, he embraced us at leaving, and would have walked to the shore had we permitted it. How full of good feeling was this excellent priest!

We were soon threading our way among the rocks,

recrossed a segment of the Atlantic in our open boat,-saw a shoal of small fish describing arcs in the air, were caught in a squall of wind and rain, and shut out of sight of land, became discontented at the misrule of the boatmen, who, when implicit obedience was most necessary, argued and quarrelled with their steersman,—saw land again,-landed at Flores, and took up our abode with the hospitable consul, Dr. Mackay. We then found out the approach to Santa Cruz, which from our moorings had appeared so unapproachable. At the bottom of the principal street of the town there are a small cove and beach, where the fishermen's boats are hauled up. In front of the cove is a bar of lava, connected with the jagged rocks on each side. A small passage, capable of admitting a moderately sized schooner, leads over the bar, which is hemmed in and screened from the winds and waves, with high walls of brown tuff.

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The boatmen are cautious, almost to timidity; but they have some reason for it, as the weather here is uncertain. They start with a fair wind on a fine day, the weather suddenly becomes tempestuous, they lose sight of the islands, and, being without a compass, are either blown out to sea and perish, or the boat is dashed to pieces on the rocks. In this way two boats and their crews were lost a few months since in only passing from one village to another, along the coast of Flores. Our morning row, though not more than thirty miles, was on the Atlantic Ocean, and in only a large wherry. In calm and fine weather, the sea, with the exception of the long ocean swell, is as smooth and quiet as the British Channel; but if it comes on to blow, in a very few minutes we are made aware of the vast difference. It is no uncommon thing to cross to Corvo from Flores, when the weather is fine and promising, and to be detained there for two or three weeks; and, in winter, Corvo is often cut off, for three or four months, from the other islands. Generally speaking, however, no one need feel the slightest hesitation in going where any of these Azorean boatmen would venture;

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they have a scrupulous regard and due value for their own lives, which they are never likely to hazard by any slap-dash temerity. They are also skilful boatmen; but, when there is actual danger, the clamour they make is enough to banish all your confidence in them.

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In tranquil ease here life's calm current flows,
No rattling hail they fear nor drifting snows;
But ocean sends, throughout the livelong day,
The sportive zephyr o'er the fields to play;
Man woos the coming of the whistling gales,
And, in his inmost heart, their gladdening presence hails.
CAYLEY SHADWELL MS. Transl.

PALANQUINS.

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THE ISLAND OF FLORES.

Journey round the Island.-Vast ravine.-Wrecks.— Anathema of a Priest.— Population.-Grandest scenery in the Azores.-Fajem Grande.-Shoes and their concomitants.— More wrecks.-Ponta Delgada and Santa Cruz.-Foundling Hospital.

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SANTA CRUZ, FLORES, April 28. Soon after six o'clock on Thursday morning (the 25th) we set off on our journey round Flores. This was to occupy two days, and on Saturday we were to have started for Fayal. complish the journey in this time, we had to be carried in hammocks or palanquins. These were nothing more than pieces of sail-cloth four or five feet broad, and seven feet long, gathered together at the ends, and tied to a long pole. Between the cloth and the pole you had to jam yourself, until by your weight the sail bulged into a seat. Two men then lifted you on their shoulders and set off at a trot, followed by a relay to relieve them when tired: your feet dangle down on one side, in much discomfort, while you cling round the pole, and lean backwards in the cloth. Some lie their length along the cloth on their back, and say that it is not

VOL. II.

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