The West coast of Sumatra is faced by an innumerable number of islets, rocks and shoals, outside of which lie a chain of larger islands. We kept out in the open sea until off Padang, preferring a more circuitous but safer route than the direct passage along shore. Here we could sail day and night, without anchoring when darkness or squalls hid the way. But our progress was slow and the passage became tedious and trying. In the day time light airs and calms prevailed, the hot sun poured down its rays with scorching intensity, and the air was so clear that we once saw a peak one hundred and six miles distant. At night heavy squalls of wind burst upon us, with torrents of rain and terrific peals of thunder; the balls of fire, called by the sailors corposants, blazed at the mast-heads, and the lightning was incessant. When sixteen days out from Penang we sailed through Siberet Straits, and the next evening just at dark we were within fifteen miles of our anchorage at Padang. A dark squally night prevented our running in, and a heavy N.W. gale and southerly current drove us a few miles south of the port. For the next six days we were hard at work trying to make these few miles, but as soon as we gained a little, a calm prevailed and the current set us back again. The water was too deep for anchorage and we were entirely dependent on the wind, which, however, coquetted with us till endurance almost ceased to belong to our virtues. The captain's state of mind as he descended bare-footed to the cabin after having stood on deck in a rain squall, which was vainly expected to bring a breeze, may be suspected by a glance at our artist's sketch of the posture assumed upon the cabin sofa. Six days of this harassing work made me so desperate that I took advantage of a long continued squall to run in a dark night along the dangerous reefs, and guided only by the roar of the breakers gained a position, from which the next day we were able to work into Padang Roads and anchor inside of the beautiful Island "Pulo Pisang," or Banana Isle. After safely anchoring at our long desired haven, a crew of native boatmen manned the bark's boat and pulled me to the town of Padang two miles distant. We rounded Apenberg, the hill to which its chattering monkeys have given a name, and ascended a river a short distance to the landing place.