Sunday, September 10th.—­Tom has been on deck nearly all night.  The shore is very low and difficult to distinguish, and the lights are badly kept.  If the lighthouse-keeper happens to have plenty of oil, and is not out shooting or fishing, he lights his lamp; otherwise, he omits to perform this rather important part of his duties.  The lighthouses can therefore hardly be said to be of much use.  About 5 a.m.  Kindred rushed down into our cabin, and woke Tom, calling out, ‘Land to leeward, sir!’ and then rushed up on deck again.  The first glimmer of dawn had enabled him to see that we were running straight on to the low sandy shore, about three miles off, a very strong current having set us ten miles out of our course.  The yacht’s head was accordingly at once put round, and steaming seaward we soon left all danger behind.  The sun rose brilliantly, and the weather during the day was very fine.  Morning service was impossible, owing to the necessity for a constant observation of the land; but, after making the lighthouse on Santa Maria, we had prayers at 4.30 p.m., with the hymn, ‘For those at Sea.’  In the night we made the light on Flores, burning brightly, and before morning those in the harbour of Monte Video.

Monday, September 11th.—­After making the Flores light we proceeded slowly, and dropped our anchor in the outer roads of Monte Video at 4 a.m.  At seven o’clock we got it up again, and by eight were anchored close to the shore.  We found that our arrival was expected, and the health-officers’ boat was soon alongside.  Next came an officer from the United States’ man-of-war ‘Frolic,’ with polite messages and offers of service; and then a steam-launch belonging to the Pacific Company, and another from the Consul, Major Monro, with piles of letters and newspapers for us.

Monte Video, as seen from the water, is not an imposing-looking place.  On the opposite side of the entrance to the harbour rises a hill, called the Cerro, 450 feet high, from which the town derives its name, and further inland, on the town side, is another eminence, 200 feet high, called the Cerrito.  With these exceptions the surrounding country looks perfectly flat, without even a tree to break the monotony.

Soon after breakfast we went ashore—­in more senses of the word than one; for they have commenced to build a mole for the protection of small vessels, which, in its unfinished state, is not yet visible above the water.  The consequence was that, at a distance of about half a mile from the landing-steps, we rowed straight on to the submerged stonework, but fortunately got off again very quickly, without having sustained any damage.  On landing, we found ourselves opposite the Custom House, a fine building, with which we afterwards made a closer acquaintance.