The winds were baffling and light, as usual in the morning in these latitudes, where, however, there is always a sea-breeze in the afternoon.

So, being in no hurry, I sauntered about the shore with my double-barrelled gun in my hand, occasionally taking a look seaward.

Suddenly I saw within a hundred yards of me a man leading two enormous dogs in a leash.

The dogs were of a breed well known among slave-owners, as they were trained to run down runaway slaves.

I believe the land of their origin is Cuba, as they are called Cuba bloodhounds.
Suspecting nothing I continued my lounge, turning my back on the man and his dogs.