About three we got into the San Juan. This is the river by which the great lake of Nicaragua empties itself into the sea; which has been the channel used by the transit companies who have passed from ocean to ocean through Nicaragua; which has been so violently interfered with by filibusters, till all such transit has been banished from its waters; and which has now been selected by M. Belly as the course for his impossible canal. It has seen dreadful scenes of cruelty, wrong, and bloodshed. Now it runs along peaceably enough, in its broad, shallow, swift course, bearing on its margin here and there the rancho and provision-ground of some wild settler who has sought to overcome

"The whips and scorns of time—
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,"

by looking for bread and shelter on those sad, sunburnt, and solitary banks.

We landed at one such place to dine, and at another to sleep, selecting in each place some better class of habitation. At neither place did we find the owner there, but persons left in charge of the place. At the first the man was a German; a singularly handsome and dirty individual, who never shaved or washed himself, and lived there, ever alone, on bananas and musk-melons. He gave us fruit to take into the boat with us, and when we parted we shook hands with him. Out here every one always does shake hands with every one. But as I did so I tendered him a dollar. He had waited upon us, bringing water and plates; he had gathered fruit for us; and he was, after all, no more than the servant of the river squatter. But he let the dollar fall to the ground, and that with some anger in his face. The sum was made up of the small silver change of the country, and I felt rather little as I stooped under the hot sun to pick it up from out the mud of the garden. Better that than seem to leave it there in anger. It is often hard for a traveller to know when he is wished to pay, and when he is wished not to pay. A poorer-looking individual in raiment and position than that German I have seldom seen; but he despised my dollar as though it had been dirt.

We slept at the house of a Greytown merchant, who had maintained an establishment up the river, originally with the view of supplying the wants of the American travellers passing in transit across the isthmus. The flat-bottom steamers which did some five or six years since ply upon the river used to take in wood here and stop for the night. And the passengers were wont to come on shore, and call for rum and brandy; and in this way much money was made. Till after a time filibusters came instead of passengers; men who took all the wood that they could find there—hundreds of dollars' worth of sawn wood, and brandy also—took it away with them, saying that they would give compensation when they were established in the country, but made no present payment. And then it became tolerably clear that the time for making money in that locality had passed away.

They came in great numbers on one such occasion, and stripped away everything they could find. Sawn wood for their steam-boilers was especially desirable, and they took all that had been prepared for the usual wants of the river. Having helped themselves to this, and such other chattels as were at the moment needed and at hand, they went on their way, grimly rejoicing. On the following day most of them returned; some without arms, some without legs, some even without heads; a wretched, wounded, mutilated, sore-struck body of filibusters. The boiler of their large steamer had burst, scattering destruction far and near. It was current among the filibusters that the logs of wood had been laden with gunpowder in order to effect this damage. It is more probable, that being filibusters, rough and ready as the phrase goes, they had not duly looked to their engineering properties. At any rate, they all returned. On the whole, these filibusters have suffered dire punishment for their sins.

At any rate, the merchant under whose roof we slept received no payment for his wood. Here we found two men living, not in such squalid misery as that independent German, but nevertheless sufficiently isolated from the world. One was an old Swedish sailor, who seemed to speak every language under the sun, and to have been in every portion of the globe, whether under the sun or otherwise. At any rate, we could not induce him to own to not having been in any place. Timbuctoo; yes, indeed, he had unfortunately been a captive there for three years. At Mecca he had passed as an Arab among the Arabs, having made the great pilgrimage in company with many children of Mahomet, wearing the green turban as a veritable child of Mahomet himself. Portsmouth he knew well, having had many a row about the Head. We could not catch him tripping, though we put him through his facings to the best of our joint geographical knowledge. At present he was a poor gardener on the San Juan river, having begun life as a lieutenant in the Swedish navy. He had seen too much of the world to refuse the dollar which was offered to him.

On the next morning we reached Greytown, following the San Juan river down to that pleasant place. There is another passage out to the sea by the Colorado, a branch river which, striking out from the San Juan, runs into the ocean by a shorter channel. This also has been thought of as a course for the projected canal, preferable to that of the San Juan. I believe them to be equally impracticable. The San Juan river itself is so shallow that we were frequently on the ground even in our light canoe.

And what shall I say of Greytown? We have a Consul-General there, or at least had one when these pages were written; a Consul-General whose duty it is, or was, to have under his special care the King of Mosquitia—as some people are pleased to call this coast—of the Mosquito coast as it is generally styled. Bluefields, further along the coast, is the chosen residence of this sable tyrant; but Greytown is the capital of his dominions. Now it is believed that, in deference to the feelings of the United States, and to the American reading of the Clayton-Bulwer treaty, and in deference, I may add, to a very sensible consideration that the matter is of no possible moment to ourselves, the protectorate of the Mosquito coast is to be abandoned. What the king will do I cannot imagine; but it will be a happy day I should think for our Consul when he is removed from Greytown. Of all the places in which I have ever put my foot, I think that is the most wretched. It is a small town, perhaps of two thousand inhabitants, though this on my part is a mere guess, at the mouth of the San Juan, and surrounded on every side either by water or impassable forests. A walk of a mile in any direction would be impossible, unless along the beach of the sea; but this is of less importance, as the continual heat would prevent any one from thinking of such exercise. Sundry Americans live here, worshipping the almighty dollar as Americans do, keeping liquor shops and warehouses; and with the Americans, sundry Englishmen and sundry Germans. Of the female population I saw nothing except some negro women, and one white, or rather red-faced owner of a rum shop. The native population are the Mosquito Indians; but it seems that they are hardly allowed to live in Greytown. They are to be seen paddling about in their canoes, selling a few eggs and chickens, catching turtle, and not rarely getting drunk. They would seem from their colour and physiognomy to be a cross between the negro and the Indian; and such I imagine to be the case. They have a language of their own, but those on the coast almost always speak English also.

My gallant young friend, Fitzm——, was in command of a small schooner inside the harbour of Greytown. As the accommodation of the city itself was not inviting, I gladly took up my quarters under his flag until the English packet, which was then hourly expected, should be ready to carry me to Colon and St. Thomas. I can only say that if I was commander of that schooner I would lie outside the harbour, so as to be beyond the ill-usage of those frightful musquitoes. The country has been well named Mosquitia.