, 1861-10-17


"Down drops the sails against the mast,
Tis sad I1 sad can be.
We dc speak only To break
The stleuce Of the sea-"
! What is more tedious or more uncomfortable
than to be subject to the full blast Of q "bloody
sun at noon," without breath nor motion? Like
some fond traveller, when at eve southwark
straightly going" we left Victoria, for We were
outward bound. We proceeded Sabbath day
journey, when the wind left US to muse on the
beauties Of September, and "then she lay all the
day in the Straits Of Fuca john San Juan
sleeps solitary aud alone, careless Of the past and
Indifferent to its future destiny; and taking into
consideration its position, signs and fertile prai
ries, it is certainly worth battling for. In the
distance, Mount Baker, clad in eternal SHOWS,
peers head and shoulders above the Cascades.
Monarch Of all he surveys" he reigns in silent
grandeur. Far in the distance looms Whidby's
Island, apparently forming the connecting lux
in the grand chain that unites US with the disor.
derby and broken fragments of the coast range,
whose irregular irregularities strangely con-
trast with the level and picturesque valley Of
Dungcness, all forming the most beautiful scenery
imaginable, and inspiring us with renewed admi-
ration Of our great Republic, greater, if posi-.
bic, in her darker hOurs-stirring up pride in
US which stimulated the classic Webster, in the
ardor Of his great soul, toexclaim: Thank God,
|, too, am an American"
"POr far As the valleys green or mountain SHOWS,
We survey our county and behold our hOme.'
The sun appears exceedingly lazy, and slowly
pursueS the noiselesS tenor Of its way to "where
the setting west merges into the rising east"
Withdrawing its benedcent rays, leaving to sinful
man the sad inheritance Of darkness.
"And leaves the cold world to solitude and me-"
Here, then, We rest The sun has gone down,
and dark, dreary night closes around the mari.
ner's way.
"oh! ever thus, from ehildhOOd's hour,
I've seen my iondest hopes decay"
Night dTaws her sable mantle around me, and
leaves me in outer darkness, an unwilling listener
to the voices Of the night, surrounded by all the
gloomy terrOrs that ever make night hideOus-
really
"AD i-desined sloop that steers
In silence through the gate Of tears"
ing loud" 1t fills the rusiling sail and bends the
gallant mast She ieels the breeze, and moves
like thing Of life. "She makes path to Sine
after her; one would think the deep to be hOary."
Thus cOntesting the supremacy OF the sea with
whales and smaller fish, which appear to be abun-
dant, we gain the hOspitAble shOresof Protection
lslaud, II d, unlike 81. Paul, who cast his anchor
over the stern, or Capt Noah, who beached his
scow, (Ohl what sallOrsD we cast our anchor
within the vale Of the sand.spit, ship-shape and
Bristol fashion. Conscious Of avoiding the dsa-
greeable eight hours in the lee scuppers, or the
graveyard trick at the helm, We cOnsign our.
selves to sweet captivity, dragged out tired,
and "weary as that bird Of Thrace whose pin
ions find no resting place." "oh! Billy, let US
thank the Lord that you and are sailors" So
we accost and greet the ancient mariners Of 81.
Paul, who, like myself, wished for the day. En-
couraged ut length by the "blest powers Of sun
shine, whose genial ray joy and gadness every
where display" we cut loose from the island, and,
with light breeze and tide taken at the flood,
we made our way toward Point Wilson, where
we got into the horse ATTITUDES. The wind left
us, and It became so exec ,sively hot that the
-very deep did rot," and we lay majestic as a
painted sloop upon painted sea-" "Time and
tide wait for no man." proved no exception in our
case, as, instead Of taking US to our desired ha.
ven, we were without any apology swept at rail-
road speed across to Whidbys Island. Hungry
and thirsty we cast longing eyes on the Canaan
4 Of our hopes, and in tho anguish Of our bitter
soul we hung our harp on the bowsprit thoroughly
convinced that Jordan is q hard rOad TO travel.
After battling the elements for three mortal hours,
we, with the earnest Of our white ash and pro-
fusion Of Scotch navigation, succeeded in gaining
the wharf, and, like the discontented pendulum,
"think, says |, Ill STOP"
Now safely moored in his modern "Cowes and
q Market" we take retrospective view Of Port
Townsend. The bay Is o spacious sheet Of wa.
ter, much after the shape Of Paddy's blanket as
broad as It is long, say four miles square. The
scenery Is made up Of broken hills and rugged
mountains, interspersed with bleak valleys, man
festing little or proof that the star 1f empire
has got thus far as yet The town (so called) is
situated on the north shore Of the bay, near the
entrance, and, like Edinburgh in one particular,
has its upper and lower town. The upper is sit
uated on a high romantic green bluff, bearing
some resemblance to your own dear heights Of
the City Of Curches-Brooklyn. The lower is
situated between the bluff and the bay, on low,
muddy, brackish swamp, very similar to the peat
bogs Of my native sod. The water here is brack-
ish and considered valuable, as every well is
guarded by paddock. So you see that
"In vain with lavish kindness the gifts Of God are srewn"
for here it seems locked up on speculation, and
speak from practical experience when say that
6nd Il difficult to obtain small supply Of wa
ter, though here 'its darkness might put to shame
the darkey's wool" The agricultural products
Of the Port are less than those Of the Snohomsh
river, though the latter is hardly ever heard Of
The roadstead is very much like the jockeys
horse, Which had but two faults-he was hard to
be caught, and was gOod for nothing after he was