On February 1st, another gale, far heavier than the last, caused us to ship a great deal of water in the cabin. There was no real danger, but I never saw fellows more frightened than were our prisoners, as the water came dashing through their state-room windows. For Cambiaso, he was a perfect coward when he was sea-sick. Nine days afterwards we were in real danger; as a sudden squall struck the vessel, and broke the main-yards in the slings. When the gale abated, we got a spare yard ready, and were soon in sailing order again. We were disappointed in our hopes of meeting with any vessels from which we could obtain relief; and we had experienced great difficulty in finding a watering place; so that by the time we reached the western extremity of the Straits, I found myself so short of water that I determined to abandon my intention of going to Valparaiso, and to make San Carlos, the port on the northern extremity of the island of Chiloe. This course seemed to me more necessary, as I doubted our ability to keep the prisoners under for many days longer, there having been already two attempts to rise among them, only kept down by our prompt watchfulness. The most desperate among them were either fearful of coming within the reach of the arm of the law, or were tempted by the treasure which lay almost within their grasp. I think nothing had so much effect in restraining them as the perfect fearlessness with which I moved about among them, and the apparent confidence with which I issued my orders--directing the prisoners in the hold to come on deck, to go to the galley for their mess, to clean out their quarters, and so forth--as if I were perfectly sure that I should be obeyed. During the last few days of our passage, I had been alarmed by noticing words passing between some of the soldiers who were on guard, and the prisoners, as they came up on deck for their daily walk. There was evidently another outbreak in contemplation. I communicated my suspicions to my friends, and we redoubled our vigilance. On the 13th of February, in the evening, as the altered course of the vessel must have informed some of them that we were nearing port, a larger party than usual made their appearance on deck, armed with whatever weapons they could collect from below. Some of the cutlasses and other weapons belonging to the rebels we had never been able to obtain, they having secreted them. My crew were stationed at their posts on deck, and armed; and captain Avalos ordered his men to load up their muskets in the presence of the prisoners. About ten o’clock, three of our own men deliberately left their places and walked over to the ranks of the prisoners. We withdrew to the cabin, and stood with our loaded pistols and muskets in our hands, and our drawn swords, with other loaded pistols, lying on the table within our reach. Under the table was the box in which the treasure was nailed up.