Like some of the other islands they had seen, their appearance from the ship was that of barren wastes of rock and lava. Off Porto Praya a pilot was obtained; for the port has one of the best harbors to be found among the Isles of the Sea, though a heavy sea sometimes breaks in on the shore, which renders it almost impossible to land. It was necessary to coal the steamer here, and while the work was in progress the students were allowed to go on shore. They found much to interest them here, for some things were different from what they had seen in any of the other islands. They took a stroll out of the town, and followed a grassy valley for a couple of miles. Nineteen out of every twenty persons they met in the town and in the country were negroes; and they were very lazy and indolent. They saw plenty of goats, monkeys, and parrots in their walk when they went out of the travelled road. Diminutive donkeys were the only domestic animals. There is scarcely any thing that can be called a tree, except the baobab-tree, which is only twelve or fifteen feet high, but is some twenty feet in diameter, while its thick head of branches is nearly fifty feet through. The fruit is called “monkey-bread.” Sugar, cotton, tobacco, rice, and goat-skins are among the principal productions. Santiago is the largest and most important of these islands. It is about thirty miles long, and half as wide. It has a population of ten thousand, the greater part of which is in Porto Praya. This town is the capital of the islands; but it is a poorly built place, on a hill. The students were not disposed to spend much of their time on shore here. It was a vastly different region from the sunny Canaries; and they were not sorry to leave it. The fleet was not here. Nothing had been heard from it. It was evident enough, after a full inquiry, that the squadron had not been to the Cape Verds. With the bunkers filled with coal, the Ville d’Angers sailed to the north-west, with the intention of looking into the coaling-station on the island of St. Vincent. A run of half a day brought them between this island and St. Antonio, so that they could look into the bay. No fleet was there; but the lofty peak of San Antonio, nearly ten thousand feet high, was to be seen on the island of this name. “We shall never find that fleet,” said O’Hara, when the ship was out in the open sea, but with the lofty mountain still frowning down upon her. “I doubt if we ever do,” replied Tom Speers. “I don’t know where to go next in search of that same fleet,” continued O’Hara. “I think we must hold another council of war. Will you oblige me, Tom, darlint, by asking Prince Frisbone, Capt. Fairfield, and Mr. Shakings to step into the pilot-house?”