THE COAST OF AFRICA. 23

swell lifted the vessel, and caused her sails, which
hung down against the masts, to give a loud flap,
while here and there the surface was broken by the
fin or snout of some monster of the deep swimming
round us. Our monkey, Quako, who had been
turned out of his usual resting-place, was exhibiting
more than his ordinary agility—springing about the
rigging, and chattering loudly, now making his
way aloft, whence he looked eastwards, and now
returning to the caboose, as if to communicate his
ideas to his sable friend.

‘What makes Quako so frisky this morning?’
I asked of Dick Radford, the boatswain, a sturdy
broad shouldered man of iron frame, who, with
trousers tucked up, and bare arms brawny as those
of Hercules, was standing, bucket in hand, near
me, deluging the deck with water. ,

‘He smells his native land, Harry,’ he answered,
‘and thinks he is going to pay a visit to his kith
and kindred. We shall have to keep him moored
pretty fast, or he will be off into the woods to find
them. I have a notion you will get a sight of it
before long, when the sea breeze sets in and sends
the old barky through the water.’

‘What! the coast of Africa!’ I exclaimed, and