We experienced several continuous and heavy rain storms, accompanied by violent squalls; as these would pass over, the rainbow, by which they were always followed, reflecting on and illuminating the green sides and white caps of the hills, presented to our admiring eyes, a grand, imposing and beautiful sight. I know of nothing that I ever saw that more fully impressed my mind with the omnipotence of the Creator than did this splendid work; and I have found myself again and again aroused from my admiration to answer the self-imposed question, “Could any man, after gazing upon such an appearance, candidly feel himself an atheist;” and, after arguing the matter pro and con, could find no excuse for such unbelief. It is usual in port, during the night, to stand what is called the “anchor watch,” consisting of two men; the members of the crew, fore and aft, participating in it. In this port, which was considered so out of the way as to present no inducements for desertion, to allow the officers the whole of the night undisturbed, the watches were all imposed upon the boat-steerers and foremast hands. On the night of the 22d, the watches were set as usual. Everything was quiet until morning, when the whole of us were aroused by the first officer awaking, and finding nobody on deck, and the starboard boat gone, which had been allowed to remain alongside. On mustering all hands, five of the foremast men were discovered to be amongst the missing. Their names were Joseph Riley, of Patterson, New Jersey; Charles W. Baylis, of Rochester, New York; Harvey W. Miller, of Weymark, Weymouth County, Pennsylvania; John Roberts, an Englishman, and David Jones, a Welshman. The three former had sailed from the United States with us; the two latter were British convicts--Roberts, whom we shipped in Vasse, and Jones, who had joined the ship at King George’s Sound. They had taken the boat, furnished with oars and sails, and all the other furniture belonging to her; also a tub of tow-line and the ship’s spyglass; and from the appearance of our bread and harness casks, had liberally supplied themselves with provisions. The absence of any officer on deck afforded them time to safely convey their clothes and bedding off; and so equipped, they left us, in an obscure bay, hundreds of miles from any settlement, on a stormy coast, in an open whale-boat. No one ever expected to hear aught of them afterwards; but as my narrative progresses, a recountal of their adventures will be elicited: for the present we will leave them and return to our barque. On discovering the loss of his men the captain stormed; but finding that the whole procedure had been carried on with the utmost secresy, and that few, if any, of those remaining, were cognizant of more than the mere desertion of the men, he allowed it to drop, and little was said about them thereafter, until circumstances obtruded them on his notice. It will be observed that Kedge Anchor has at length managed to get away,