That night the gale broke, and before morning it had materially moderated. Lighters were brought alongside, and we began to discharge our flour into them. The cargo was all discharged, and all in good order, so far as the water was concerned; though several of the keelson bolts were driven into the ground tier of barrels. I am almost afraid to tell this story, but I know it to be true, as I released the barrels with my own hands. As soon as clear, the ship was hove off into deep water, on the top of a high tide, and was found to leak so much as to need a shore-gang at the pumps to keep her afloat. She was accordingly sold for the benefit of the underwriters. She was subsequently docked and sent to sea. Of course, this broke up our voyage. The captain advised me to take a second-mate's berth in the Governor Brooks, the only American that escaped the gale, and I did so. This vessel was a brig, bound round the Horn, also, and a large, new craft. I know of no other vessel, that lay in front of the Rock that rode out this gale; and she did it with two hempen cables out, partly protected, however, by a good berth. There was a Swede that came back next day to her anchorage, which was said to have got back-strapped, behind the Rock, by some legerdemain, and so escaped also. I do not know how many lives were lost on this occasion; but the destruction of property must have been very great. Three weeks after the gale, the Governor Brooks sailed. We had a hard time in doubling the Cape, being a fortnight knocking about between Falkland and the Main. We were one hundred and forty-four days out, touching nowhere, until we anchored at Callao. We found flour, of which our cargo was composed, at seven dollars a barrel, with seven dollars duty. The Franklin 74, was lying here, with the Aurora English frigate, the castle being at war with the people inland. Our flour was landed, and what became of it is more than I can tell. We now took in ballast, and ran down to Guayaquil. Here an affair occurred that might very well have given me the most serious cause of regret, all the days of my life. Our steward was a Portuguese negro, of the most vicious and surly temper. Most of the people and officers were really afraid of him. One evening, the captain and chief mate being both ashore, I was sitting on deck, idle, and I took a fancy to a glass of grog. I ordered the steward, accordingly, to pour me out one, and bring it up. The man pretended that the captain had carried off the keys, and no rum was to be had. I thought this a little extraordinary; and, as one would be very apt to be, felt much hurt at the circumstance. I had never been drunk in the craft, and was not a drunkard in one sense of the term, at all; seldom drinking so as to affect me, except when on a frolic, ashore.