I went aloft when I heard the ever-welcome cry from the foretopmast-head: "Land! land on the starboard bow!" Then I saw it rising in a succession of faint blue hills out of the sparkling sea. Peter told me that it was the large island of Hispaniola, or Saint Domingo, and that it belonged partly to Spain and partly to France; but that there were a great number of blacks and coloured people there, many of whom were free and possessed considerable wealth. Not long after this, in the year 1791, these coloured people rose on the whites, who had long tyrannised over them, and having murdered vast numbers, declared their island an independent kingdom. We were entering, I found, the Caribbean Sea by the Porto Rico passage; and were to coast along the southern shore on our course to Jamaica. Now and then we were sufficiently close in with the land to make out objects distinctly; but, in general, we kept well out at sea, as it is not a coast seamen are fond of hugging. The silvery mist of the early morning still lay over the land, when, right ahead of us, the white canvas of a vessel appeared shining brightly in the rays of the rising sun. The officer of the watch called the attention of the captain to her. Peter and I were also looking out forward. "Why, Jack!" he exclaimed, "she's the very craft which put that old gentleman aboard the time we came away from Saint Kitt's, you remember?" "Of course I do," said I. "She is like her, at all events; and as for that old gentleman, I shall not forget him and his ways in a hurry." "He was a strange man, certainly," observed Peter. "The captain seems to have a suspicion about the craft out there. See, he and the mates are talking together. They don't like her looks." Still we stood on with all sails set. Much the same scene occurred which had happened before, when we saw the felucca off Saint Kitt's. Ammunition was got up--the guns were all ready to run out--the small-arms were served out--and the passengers brought out their pistols and fowling-pieces. Everybody, indeed, became very warlike and heroic. Still the little craft which called forth these demonstrations, as she lay dipping her bows into the swell, with her canvas of whiteness so snowy, the emblem of purity, looked so innocent and pretty, that a landsman would scarcely have expected any harm to come out of her. Yet those accustomed to the West Indies had cause to dread that style of craft, capable of carrying a numerous crew, of pulling a large number of oars, and of running up a narrow river, or shallow lagoon, to escape pursuit.