A large brig belonging to an eastern port, and commanded by a worthy and cautious man, was bound to St.Pierre in Martinico.

The latitude of that island was reached in due time, but the island could not bee seen, the captain having steered well to the eastward.

The brig was put before the wind, and while daylight lasted every stitch of canvas was spread, and every eye was strained to catch a glimpse of the high land which was expected to loom up in the western horizon.

This proceeding continued for several days; the brig carrying a press of sail by day, and lying to by night, until patience seemed no longer a virtue.

The worthy captain began to fear he had not steered far enough to the eastward, but had been carried by unknown currents to leeward of his port, and that the first land he should make might prove to be the Musquito coast on the continent.