commenced our journey with more spirit. At this stage the oars were replaced by long poles shod with iron, similar to those used in our Thames punts. A platform consisting of a single plank on each side enabled them to walk about fifteen feet forwards, and with the pole to the shoulder walking aft maintained a rate equal to about two miles per hour against the stream.
Up to this point a ship's gig could come with ease, and, in case of necessity, I should think even to Gorgona. Here a canoe might be despatched over night, with fresh hands, in readiness to effect the utmost despatch. The gig probably would get thus far in half the time required by a canoe, and mostly under canvass.
Just above this position, at Palo Matea, poor Captain Foster, of her Majesty's ship Chanticleer, met his melancholy fate. The spot is not now marked, but a brass tablet rudely engraved, and but an insignificant monument, even for a seaman, still remains in Fort Lorenzo, to show how little is thought of the pet of science, when his services are no longer available.
Our progress this second day afforded us little change, save in the appearance of a few more alligators and iguanas. Some of the latter were taken by our crew, who displayed some tact in putting them in durance, although cruel — viz. by breaking the claw joints and passing one claw through the ligament of its opposite member, — toggling their hands over their necks, as a seaman would term it. The
