In an hour after leaving Cubi, we cast anchor under the walls of the old castle. Our flag attracted immediate attention, and the people crowded upon the walls of the fort to look at us. Some called to Pedro, with a multitude of gesticulations; but the noise of the surf was so great that we could not make out what was said. The question which presented itself most strongly to us was, how are we going to land? for a surf like that of the ocean broke on the shore. We had a practical answer, however, very shortly. The cable was let out, so as to bring us as far in shore as was safe, and then three or four sailors leaped overboard, their heads and shoulders just appearing above the water, and invited us to get on! Get on what—where—how? Pedro explained that we were to put our feet on the shoulders, and seat ourselves on the head of one, and hold on with our hands to the hair of another, just in advance. After a number of awkward attempts, which excited great merriment, and at the expense of wetted feet, we finally got into position, and were duly deposited on shore, amidst a swarm of boys and women. Some of the former pressed forward, exclaiming “California,” or “goode by,” and then disappeared laughing amongst their companions. It was very evident that our countrymen had created a great sensation in their progress. Probably no equal number of strangers had passed through the country for a century. Pedro slipped off his clothes, and holding them above his head, also came on shore, in ecstatic spirits to find the town standing and all safe. He dressed with great expedition, and with much dignity put himself in advance, to escort us to the town. Not at all sorry to get out of the crowd of gazers, we followed along a broad, well-beaten road, with elevated foot-paths on each side, in the direction of the city. The ascent seemed to be by terraces; the faces of which were paved with stone, and guarded by masonry, to protect them from the wasting action of the rains. Palms, plantains, orange and other tropical trees lined the road on either hand, shut in by a hedge composed of a species of cactus, bearing brilliant red flowers. We met troops of laughing girls, of every shade of complexion, from pure white to ebon black, fancifully attired, with water-jars on their heads, on their way to the lake. They were as straight as arrows, and seemed to have an infinite fund of animal spirits. Most of them passed us with a side glance, half of curiosity and half of mischief, while others more bold, turning full round, exclaimed gayly, “Adios, caballeros!” to which, we responded, “Adios, mi alma!” much to their apparent entertainment.