Barros, Castanheda, and Goes give the same account of the doubling of the Cape, but Correa would have us believe that Vasco da Gama, after having made a landfall to the north of the Cape, stood out for the open sea for a month, until there were scarcely six hours of sunlight in the day; and that, even after that, and after he had once more failed to reach the southern extremity of Africa, he continued south for two more months. Then at last he turned again to the east, and found that he had doubled the Cape. Beyond it he discovered lofty mountains and many rivers, one of which was ascended by Coelho for twenty leagues.[441] The utter absurdity of this account is evident, and it is surprising that it should have been accepted by serious historians. A day of six hours may be experienced in lat. 58° 30´ S. in mid-winter—that is in June—but nowhere in the southern hemisphere during summer. In November the duration of daylight in that latitude is about sixteen hours, and to talk about “darkness” under these circumstances seems absurd. It would, moreover, have been impossible to reach so high a latitude without coming amidst masses of drift-ice, which surely would have proved a stranger experience to Vasco’s companions than “tremendous seas” and “high winds”, and better worth recording. _Along the East Coast of Africa._ On December 8th Vasco left the Bay of S. Braz, and four days afterwards experienced a heavy westerly gale (p. 18). Barros, Goes, and Castanheda refer to this gale, but Correa, not content with a gale, conjures up a succession of storms, continuing for days, so that the crews clamoured to be taken back to Portugal. The men in Coelho’s ships are actually said to have conspired to mutiny at the earliest opportunity. Their intention, we are expected to believe, was made known to the captain-major by a mysteriously-worded message shouted from ship to ship by Coelho. Vasco at once summoned his people, declared to them that “if the bad weather came again he had determined to put back; but to disculpate himself with the King it was necessary for some among them to sign a document giving the reasons for putting back.” Having invited on this pretence his pilot, his master and three leading seamen into his cabin, he treacherously put them in irons, and, flinging all the instruments necessary for navigating the ship into the sea, declared that God would henceforth be their master and pilot. The men were released on reaching the River of Mercy, but on their return to Portugal they were ironed once more, to be presented in that degrading state to their King![442]