To the strictest discipline De Soto united the practical knowledge of a thorough seaman.  But “the master spirit of the whole,” was Francisco Ruiz, the carpenter of the Panda.  This individual was of the middle size, but muscular, with a short neck.  His hair was black and abundant, and projected from his forehead, so that he appeared to look out from under it, like a bonnet.  His eyes were dark chestnut, but always restless; his features were well defined; his eye-lashes, jet black.  He was familiar with all the out-of-the-way places of the Havana, and entered into any of the dark abodes without ceremony.  From report his had been a wild and lawless career.  The crew were chiefly Spaniards, with a few Portuguese, South Americans, and half castes.  The cook was a young Guinea negro, with a pleasant countenance, and good humored, with a sleek glossy skin, and tatooed on the face; and although entered in the schooner’s books as free, yet was a slave.  In all there were about forty men.  Her cargo was an assorted one, consisting in part of barrels of rum, and gunpowder, muskets, cloth, and numerous articles, with which to purchase slaves.

The Panda sailed from the Havana on the night of the 20th of August; and upon passing the Moro Castle, she was hailed, and asked, “where bound?” She replied, St. Thomas.  The schooner now steered through the Bahama channel, on the usual route towards the coast of Guinea; a man was constantly kept at the mast head, on the lookout; they spoke a corvette, and on the morning of the 20th Sept., before light, and during the second mate’s watch, a brig was discovered heading to the southward.  Capt.  Gilbert was asleep at the time, but got up shortly after she was seen, and ordered the Panda to go about and stand for the brig.  A consultation was held between the captain, mate and carpenter, when the latter proposed to board her, and if she had any specie to rob her, confine the men below, and burn her.  This proposition was instantly acceded to, and a musket was fired to make her heave to.

This vessel was the American brig Mexican, Capt.  Butman.  She had left the pleasant harbor of Salem, Mass., on the last Wednesday of August, and was quietly pursuing her voyage towards Rio Janeiro.  Nothing remarkable had happened on board, says Captain B., until half past two o’clock, in the morning of September 20th, in lat. 38, 0, N., lon. 24, 30, W. The attention of the watch on deck was forcibly arrested by the appearance of a vessel which passed across our stern about half a mile from us.  At 4 A.M. saw her again passing across our bow, so near that we could perceive that it was a schooner with a fore top sail and top gallant sail.  As it was somewhat dark she was soon out of sight.  At daylight saw her about five miles off the weather quarter standing on the wind on the same tack we were on, the wind was light at SSW and we were standing about S.E.  At 8 A.M. she was about two miles right to windward