The next morning the chief officer discovered on our starboard beam a three-masted felucca, under small sail, standing as ourselves. It was nearly calm; presently the 'little stranger' steered for us, manned a certain number of sweeps, and seemed to have a great number of men on board. She was about 140 or 150 tons burthen. While examining her with our glasses, a sail was set on her jigger mast. There seemed to be a general wish that she would 'come on,' in spite of what was unmistakably a heavy swivel gun amidships. We showed our colours, to which no reply was made. At last we seemed to have fallen in with the traditional 'long, low, black schooner,' metamorphosed into a felucca for the nonce. Suddenly the man at the wheel directed the attention of the mate to another sail just appearing on our larboard beam; she was steering to the southward, with a light air and under a crowd of sail. As she approached, she proved to be a schooner of the size of our revenue cutters. A barque also hove in sight, bringing up a stiff squall, with heavy rain. The felucca was next observed standing on the same course as ourselves. We trimmed sail to the wind, and hauled up to the eastward; presently, the wind increasing, the schooner crossed our bows, almost within hailing distance--a beautiful object to look at. She set all studding sails as she went by us, with a fore skysail, and that other unusual sail, now, perhaps, never heard of, and then not common, called a 'ring tail.' We crossed the equator on the thirty-first day out, with a good easterly wind, which hauled to the south-east and blew stiffly. A few days after we discovered a good-sized barque standing in for the coast of South America. She hoisted Brazilian colours. Her decks, forward of the mainmast, were crowded with negroes, while abaft we observed several dark-brown gentlemen, the captain, officers, and supercargoes, perhaps. She was evidently a slaver returning from the West Coast of Africa, with a full cargo of ebony. She crossed our bows within a few hundred yards, and on gaining our starboard side, our dark-brown friends raised their panamas, and waving them, wished us 'Bon voyage.' This vessel proved to be the last 'living thing' we saw for a period of nearly fifty days, except albatross, whales, and Mother Carey's chickens.