To obviate this uneasiness, many plans were resorted to, and the true one was at length hit upon: the infallible one of labor. All hands seemed suddenly transformed into a colony of curiosity-hunters. One would be seen with a box of shells, cleaning them; another with a Madagascar spear, polishing it, so as to be presentable; whilst others had articles of ivory, bone, and wood, and were busily employed in improving their appearance, so as to render them more creditable to the donor. Every man in the ship had more or less of this description of articles; the greater part of which had been constructed aboard from the jaws and teeth of the sperm whales. Our occupation with these things continued not only for hours, but for days, and in some instances whole weeks. Thus the time glided on, until we found ourselves hurried along by the northeast trades. These delightful winds we encountered when but two degrees to the northward of the line; and during their continuance we had nothing to grumble at, as we had a fair wind and plenty of it. From the testimony of former voyagers, who had run up and down these trades, we expected that we would be favored with their continuance until we should arrive in latitude 23 or 24° north; but in this, like in most of our other pleasant anticipations, we were disappointed. When we reached the fourteenth parallel of north latitude, they had almost ceased; and then, forgetful of their benefits, we grumbled at their scarce more than ephemeral existence. I well remember the expression of one of our crew, delivered with approved bitterness of spirit. The occasion of this was a mid watch at night, when all of the starboard watch were grouped together by the windlass, discussing our experience of the variability of the winds, while destined to some port or other in the course of the voyage. The speaker, having heard the opinions of several others, stepped into the center of the little knot, and, with an emphatic gesture of the hand, said: “Shipmates! it is no use talking: we are fated to meet with nothing but foul winds and head-beat seas until we get home, and then the bad luck that has kept us company for the past forty-four months may leave us. But there is, and has been, a Jonah in the ship the whole voyage, from the time we left New Bedford. The first we saw of it was in the Eliza Carrew’s coming in contact with us; next, sperm whaling off New Holland. When bound to Balli we had a head wind; bound to the Australian Bight we had one of the dirtiest of dirty passages. To New Zealand we made a first-rate passage; but, when there, what was our fortune? To get scarce any oil, and lose one of our best men! Then, bound from there to Hobartown, we had the wind smack in our teeth for two weeks, when, with a favorable breeze, we should have performed the run in three or four days. Our ill-success in whaling to the southward, and on our visit to the Abrolhas’, is too glaring to need particularization. Our passage to