Page:Wanderings of a Pilgrim Vol 1.djvu/48

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rising abruptly from the sea; the trees appeared fine and numerous. We are in the trade winds, going generally about eight knots an hour; the evenings are delicious; little or no dew falls so far from land; in the evening we sit on deck, and enjoy the breeze. The moon is reflected so beautifully on the waves, the nights are so warm, the air so pure, the climate so agreeable, I could willingly turn canary bird, and take up my residence in this latitude.

Sometimes quadrilles are danced by the light of the moon; sometimes by the glare of half-a-dozen lanterns. There is little or no motion in the vessel; no events occur; yes—let me not forget—a little boy fell into the pea-soup and got a ducking; luckily for him, it was nearly cold. "The misfortunes of the stable fall on the head of the monkey[1]." The deck presents a curious assemblage: Lancers at extension exercise, women working, sailors hauling, children at school, ladies reading or talking in groups—altogether an amusing scene.

On Sundays Divine service is performed; the psalms are sung in very good style, accompanied by the Lancer band. The weather is hot; the thermometer 79° in our cabin, 81° in the cuddy, which at dinner-time contains six-and-thirty people. To-day a shark was caught; it was attended by three pilot fish, which, they say, guide the shark to its prey. These small fish are very pretty, and striped like zebras. The shark was hooked and dragged up by the stern windows; he struggled manfully, but was soon despatched.

A little flying-fish flew into one of the ports to escape the pursuit of a larger fish; it was small and curious, but not so pretty as one would imagine. Two large fins spread out on its sides, like wings. It was a novelty to most of the passengers.

July 22nd.—What a strange, bustling life! This is baggage-day; all the trunks are on deck—such a confusion! I am suffering from maladie de mer; the wind is contrary; we tack and veer most tiresomely; the ship pitches; we cling about like cats, and are at our wits' end, striving to endure our miseries with patience.

  1. Oriental Proverbs, No. 9.