at sea, and again close in under the shore.  On the third morning we came into the great bay of Santa Barbara two hours behind the brig, and thus lost the bet; though if the race had been to the point, we should have beaten her by five or six hours.  This, however, settled the relative sailing of the vessels, for it was admitted that although she, being small and light, could gain upon us in very light winds, yet whenever there was breeze enough to set us agoing, we walked away from her like hauling in a line; and, in beating to windward, which is the best trial of a vessel, had much the advantage.

Sunday, October 4th.  This was the day of our arrival; and, somehow or other, our captain seemed to manage, not only to sail, but to come into port, on a Sunday.  The main reason for sailing on Sunday is not, as many people suppose, because it is thought a lucky day but because it is a leisure day.  During the six days the crew are employed upon the cargo and other ship’s works, and, Sunday being their only day of rest, whatever additional work can be thrown into it is so much gain to the owners.  This is the reason of our coasters and packets generally sailing on Sunday.  Thus it was with us nearly all the time we were on the coast, and many of our Sundays were lost entirely to us.  The Catholics on shore do not, as a general thing, do regular trading or make journeys on Sunday, but the American has no national religion, and likes to show his independence of priestcraft by doing as he chooses on the Lord’s Day.

Santa Barbara looked very much as it did when I left it five months before:  the long sand beach, with the heavy rollers, breaking upon it in a continual roar, and the little town, embedded on the plain, girt by its amphitheatre of mountains.  Day after day the sun shone clear and bright upon the wide bay and the red roofs of the houses, everything being as still as death, the people hardly seeming to earn their sunlight.  Daylight was thrown away upon them.  We had a few visitors, and collected about a hundred hides, and every night, at sundown, the gig was sent ashore to wait for the captain, who spent his evenings in the town.  We always took our monkey-jackets with us, and flint and steel, and made a fire on the beach with the driftwood and the bushes which we pulled from the neighboring thickets, and lay down by it, on the sand.  Sometimes we would stray up to the town, if the captain was likely to stay late, and pass the time at some of the houses, in which we were almost always well received by the inhabitants.  Sometimes earlier and sometimes later, the captain came down; when, after a good drenching in the surf, we went aboard, changed our clothes, and turned-in for the night,—­ yet not for all the night, for there was the anchor watch to stand.