We soon rounded the Horn, and had some very rough weather. One of the sailors fell off the jib-boom; and the cry of "man overboard" made our hearts beat with horror. Every sail was on; we were running right before the wind, and the waves were mountains high, a boat must have been swamped; and long before we could "bout ship", he had sunk to rise no more. After rounding Cape Horn, we made rapid progress; by Christmas Day, we were in the Tropics. It was not kept with much joviality, for water and food were running scarce. Provisions were so dear in Melbourne, that they had laid in a short allowance of everything, and our captain had not anticipated half so many passengers. We tried, therefore, to put into St. Helena, but contrary winds preventing us, we sailed back again to the South American coast, and anchored off Pernambuco. It was providential that economical intentions made our captain prefer this port, for had we touched at Rio, we should have encountered the yellow fever, which we afterwards heard was raging there. Pernambuco is apparently a very pretty place. We were anchored about four miles from the town, so had a good view of the coast. I longed to be on shore to ramble beneath the elegant cocoa-nut-trees. The weather was intensely hot, for it was in the commencement of January; and the boats full of fruit, sent from the shore for sale, were soon emptied by us. I call them boats, but they are properly termed catamarans. They are made of logs of wood lashed securely together; they have a sail and oars but no sides, so the water rushes over, and threatens every moment to engulf the frail conveyance; but no, the wood is too light for that. The fruits brought us from shore were oranges, pine-apples, water-melons, limes, bananas, cocoa-nuts, &c., and some yams, which were a good substitute for potatoes. The fruit was all very good, and astonishingly cheap; our oranges being green, lasted till we reached England. Some of our passengers went on shore, and returned with marvellous accounts of the dirtiness and narrowness of the streets, and the extremely NATURAL costume of the natives. We remained here about four days, and then, with favourable winds, pursued our voyage at an average rate of ten or twelve knots an hour. As we neared the English coast, our excitement increased to an awful height; and for those who had been many years away, I can imagine every trivial delay was fraught with anxiety. But we come in sight of land; and in spite of the cold weather, for it is now February, 1853, every one rushes to the deck. On we go; at last we are in the Downs, and then the wind turned right against us. Boats were put off from the Deal beach. The boatmen there rightly calculated that lucky gold-diggers wouldn't mind paying a pound a-piece to get ashore, so they charged that, and got plenty of customers notwithstanding.