"Exactly; and a punch that will not let me forget the lubber in a
hurry," added Willis, clenching his fist; "but I intend, in the
meantime, to keep my weather eye open."
A few weeks after this episode the _Hoboken_ was slowly wending her
way along the bights of the Bahamas. Fritz, Jack, and Willis were
walking and chatting on the quarter-deck. The sky was of a deep azure.
The sea was covered with herbs and flowers as far as the eye could
reach--sometimes in compact masses of several miles in extent, and at
other times in long straight ribbons, as regular as if they had been
spread by some West Indian Le Notre. The ship seemed merely displaying
her graces in the sunshine, so gentle was she moving in the water. The
air was laden with perfumes, and a soft dreamy languor stole over the
friends, which they were trying in vain to shake off. In one direction
rose the misty heights of St. Domingo, and in another the cloud-capped
summits of Cuba. Sometimes the highest peaks of the latter pierced the
veil that enveloped them, and seemed like islands floating in the sky,
or heads of a race of giants.
"The air here is almost as balmy and fragrant as that of New
Switzerland," remarked Fritz.
"Aye, aye," said the Pilot; "but it is not all gold that glitters: in
these sweet smells a nasty fever is concealed, with which I have no
wish to renew my acquaintance.
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