I will set down at this point, lest it be forgotten in that whirl of excitement which always comes over me when I ponder upon the thrilling deeds of bravery I witnessed within a few hours after Captain Porter had decided to give the _Junior_ a chance for her life--I will set it down that from that 27th day of March I ceased to know aught concerning Oliver Benson. He was in irons on the evening before the gallant frigate was overtaken by misfortune, and there his history ends so far as I am concerned. Neither Phil nor I heard of the villain again, although in after years we made many inquiries concerning him. And now I am come to that portion of my poor yarn where the _Essex_ lost her "luck," and the losing of it cost the life of many a brave man, each of whom stood facing death with a cheer and a smile until the grim messenger gained the victory. No time in my life stands out in memory so vividly as does the evening of March 27, 1814, and yet nothing of particular interest to a stranger occurred at that time. That portion of the crew not on duty had gathered well forward on the gun-deck, discussing the chances that the _Junior_ would take in trying to weather the Horn when we knew that the Britishers had many ships between that point and a home port. The majority of our men believed she would pull through all right, for Mr. Downes was a skilful and at the same time careful seaman, who would not run unnecessary risks. Besides this fact, our people still relied on the "luck of the _Essex_," for they were as yet ignorant of the fact that it had at last deserted the old frigate whose career had been so glorious. There was much jawing and arguing on that evening, but in a friendly way. Never a man lost his temper, and, to the best of my knowledge, not a harsh word was spoken during that time of tongue wagging. All hands were in the best of spirits, thinking that soon we would show the Britishers a trick worth half a dozen of their clumsy ones, and believing we might yet prove the _Essex_ to be a match for both the ships in the offing. It was the most enjoyable time I ever spent aboard the frigate, for on the eve of that terrible disaster we had forgotten entirely the dangers which threatened. And now let me describe the entrance of Valparaiso harbor, for the better understanding of that which follows:-- It opens to the northward, being formed by a headland on its western side, and a cove that makes to the southward within it; the main coast sweeping round to the north and east again, affording the necessary protection. When Phil and I turned in on this 27th day of March it was nearly a dead calm, with no indication landward that a stiff breeze was concealed by the fleecy clouds which had been lighted to a crimson glory by the setting sun. Next morning on turning out we found the wind blowing half a gale from the southward, and the frigate leaping and plunging to the anchors as if bent on getting under way on her own account.