September 3. Fair winds continue to favor us, and we are within four hundred miles of California. A very few days will, in all probability, find us on terra firma again, when we shall part, many of us to meet no more. I would that these few remaining days might be spent in peace and harmony among us. But fate orders it otherwise. My enemies, the captain and mate, since the treacherous disclosure made by the chaplain, have been growing more and more acrimonious in their hatred, and they seldom omit an opportunity to insult me. An instance occurred this evening. But I forbear.
Sherman caught a porpoise last night, and cooked a portion of it to-day. We ate it rather greedily, and all thought it excellent. Our long voyage, coarse fare, and frequent hunger, have relieved us of many fastidious whims about food, and we have learned to eat and to relish some things, which it would be difficult for us to swallow at home. These porpoises throw out a sort of phosphorescent light, by which they are readily seen in the night. This one was taken at nine o'clock of a cloudy evening.
September 4. A fight occurred at breakfast in the main cabin between an Irishman of fifty-nine, the oldest man in the ship, and an American, not much his junior. The Yankee received a cut on the ear with a case-knife, and he knocked down his antagonist and gave him some severe bruises. Our ship is becoming a miniature pandemonium.
My journal has become a source of much disquietude to Captain J. and Mrs. L—t. It has excited some interest among the passengers, and I have been repeatedly requested to publish an account of the voyage. I refused at first, but after many solicitations I so far yielded as to promise that if I had time to revise my journal after our arrival at San Francisco, I would publish it. A subscription was immediately got up, and one hundred and twenty copies subscribed for. The captain and Mr. Johnson exerted all their influence to prevent the passengers from putting their names to the paper, but they had the mortification to find that their opposition only tended to increase the subscription. Mr. Johnson made himself particularly busy in the matter. He urged me to read my manuscript to the ship's company. Not that he felt any personal interest in it, O, no! But he thought that justice to Captain Jackson, whose character I had assailed, and to the passengers, who knew not what they were subscribing for, required me to read it. I did not.
Hints had been repeatedly given me, that the captain intended to seize the obnoxious manuscript. Consultations had been held upon the subject, and it was stated—and I have no doubt of the fact—that Mr. Johnson had expressed the opinion, that the captain was fully authorized by law to break open my trunk, and seize it. Uncertain as to what these ignorant madmen might be tempted to do, I deposited the journal with a friend in the main cabin, where it remained till I left the ship.
September 5. This is the last Sabbath we expect to spend on board the bark, and as we expect to separate in two or three days, a meeting was held in the main cabin, the object of which was to settle disputes and restore harmony between the officers and passengers.
It proved, however, a failure. Several short addresses were made, one by the captain in a spirit of defiance, and one by Mr. Johnson, defending his career on board the bark; a prayer was offered, and a parting hymn sung, and we broke up with very little change of feeling.
Immense schools of porpoises passed to-day, and Sherman struck and secured one of the largest we have seen. Many of the men have employed themselves in preparing the skin for belts. A whale passed us in the afternoon, coming close along-side the bark. And to keep up the excitement, a sail was discovered on our starboard bow, the only one we have seen for fifty-three days.