Saturday, November 16th, 1867

Been going nine knots all night. 10 a.m. looks now rather gloomy, only going four knots. Slight rain, wind dying away up to Rio Janeiro about eighty miles off the land.

There is a beautiful land bird flying around the ship with a red topknot. They are trying to catch it for me. Mr. Mason says it is a South American nightingale. They have not succeeded.

No sun today. Made 199 miles, the best day’s work since we came out.

It is raining fast. Past Rio. We have been depending on trade winds but up to this time we have had none. The wind is now ahead and we are looking out for a Pampero, or otherwise a furious gale very prevalent in this vicinity. A hog to be slaughtered this afternoon. How my mouth waters for the mock turtle, but of that tomorrow.