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The next day we sailed to a little place called North Bluefields, where he had a little house, and a Spaniard who traded for him. North Bluefields lies in a bay surrounded by high cliffs, so no other huts are in sight.
As soon as we were anchored the captain's brother took a horn and blew a blast. In a little while Indians in their canoes came flocking from all directions.	In an hour there was a whole fleet along our sides. Now began our
trade with the Indians. They brought turtle shells, pigs, chickens, parrots and monkeys on board. For these they got knives, beads, mirrors and other little things, but especially tobacco and rum. He gave them the rum first, for when he got them drunk, he could cheat them better.
But he succeeded too well this time, for they made such a racket that we had to get the guns loaded with blank cartridges to shoot them in the head if they did not behave themselves. But even this did not help, so we had to put down our weapons and begin to throw Indians overboard - women, children, whoever first came to hand.
It was strange they did not try to fight. When we got a good many overboard, the rest quieted down, and we closed the trade with perfect contentment on both sides. This same performance was acted every time we came there. On the Mosquito Coast, further south, they were more sober. They also steal, like ravens, but in St. Bias you could leave everything open.
We hid all our tobacco and rum in a little hut in the woods, where it was almost impossible to find it, while we went to Portobello to get permission from the Spanish government to trade on the coast. We arrived there two days after. The harbor there is splendid. It is said to have been a booming town, but now the fort and nearly all the best buildings are nothing but ruins.
The streets are filthy - dead dogs and horses are lying in the midst of them. If it were not for the untold masses of buzzards running around, looking like turkeys, it would be impossible to live there at all.
But, anyway, here are the most beautiful girls I have ever seen, although they are a little brown. But their eyes and hair are splendid. It was Sunday, and they all had wreaths of flowers on their heads which looked beautiful on their black hair. On the men sat the ugliest, sneakiest faces one could wish to see. It is a town of the greatest immorality, like all Colombian towns.
The ruins are a good place for lizards. I saw them there two or three feet long and the most beautiful colors when the sun shone on them. I have later eaten them and they taste like chicken. They are called iguanas.
After having received our permit we sailed out at night with the wind from shore. The whole day it blows from the sea and changes at night. We were going to the Bluefields River, where we were not able to land before. On the way we stopped at North Bluefields and put a lot of our tobacco and rum aboard.
When we came to the river the	sea wind	was blowing hard, so	we sailed	in
without any trouble. We anchored	two miles	from the town - as	close as	we
could get, on account of shallow water. When we got there it rained and was so foggy we could not see the town at all.
There was only one black boy	on board	who had been there	before.	So
another man and I took him with us	in a boat	to show us the road	to the town.
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