It was the radiant month of May, with mild skies and soft breezes, which kept the craft steadily making their way against the gentle current. These hardy men, standing on the decks of their little vessels, and gazing at the shores, after being tossed about for months on the stormy Atlantic, were sure they had never gazed upon anything so beautiful. The banks were exuberant with brilliant wild flowers, whose sweet fragrance was wafted across the smooth waters, while the green hills and mountains in the distance were softened to the most delicate tints against the blue sky. The craft moved so slowly that the calm current made only the faintest rippling against the bows, and the bellying sails being once set, remained as smooth and unruffled as if they were so much painted canvas. All the attention needed was for the man at the helm to hold it steady, so as to keep the boat near the middle of the great stream.