Saturday, July 15th.—­Between midnight and 4 a.m. the fog disappeared, as suddenly as it had come on.  We must have passed through a wide belt of it.  At 5.30 a.m., when Tom called me to see a steamer go by, it was quite clear.  The vessel was the ‘Roman,’ and she passed so close to us that we made our number, and exchanged salutations with the officers on the bridge.

Towards the afternoon a nice breeze sprang up, and we were able to bank fires and sail.

CHAPTER II.

MADEIRA, TENERIFFE, AND CAPE DE VERDE ISLANDS.

Full many a green isle needs must be In this wide sea of misery, Or the mariner worn and wan Never thus could voyage on.

[Illustration:  Our First View of Madeira]

Sunday, July 16th.—­Porto Santo being visible on the port bow, a quarter of a mile ahead, by 3.55 a.m. this morning, our three navigators congratulated themselves and each other on the good land-fall they had made.

It looks a curious little island, and is situated about thirty-five miles north-east of Madeira, with a high peak in the centre, of which we could only see the extreme point, appearing above the clouds.

It is interesting to know that it was from his observation of the drift-wood and debris washed on to the eastern shore that Columbus, who had married the daughter of the Governor of Porto Santo, derived his first impressions of the existence of the New World.  Here it was that he first realised there might possibly be a large and unknown country to the westward; here it was that he first conceived the project of exploring the hitherto unknown ocean and of discovering what new countries might bound its western shores.

An hour later we saw Fora and its light, at the extreme east of Madeira, and could soon distinguish the mountains in the centre of the latter island.  As we rapidly approached the land, the beauty of the scenery became more fully apparent.  A mass of dark purple volcanic rocks, clothed on the top with the richest vegetation, with patches of all sorts of colour on their sides, rises boldly from the sea.  There are several small detached rocks, and one curious pointed little island, with an arch right through the middle of it, rather like the Perce Rock on the coast of Nova Scotia.  We steamed slowly along the east coast, passing many pretty hamlets, nestled in bays or perched on the side of the hills, and observing how every possible nook and corner seemed to be terraced and cultivated.  Sugar-canes, Indian corn, vines, and many varieties of tropical and semi-tropical plants, grow luxuriantly in this lovely climate.  Nearly all the cottages in the island are inhabited by a simple people, many of whom have never left their native villages, even to look at the magnificent view from the top of the surrounding mountains, or to gaze on the sea, by which they are encompassed.