CHAPTER IV.
1. ARRIVAL IN HOOGLY.—Dreary as the passage may be, and frequently as he may have wished it at an end, yet, when the voyage draws to a close the voyager often wishes it were otherwise, and feels averse to quit the dear old ship; he will feel that he has become a member of a new family; that he has contracted new ties and new associations, the strength of which he was not aware of, till they were put upon the stretch. The stranger awakes some morning and finds the colour of the ocean changed; the azure blue is gone, the wake is muddy as a duck pond; a gaudy butterfly is seen resting upon his cabin windows; and one or two land birds may be flitting around the ship—yet no land is in sight. As the morning clears a sail is seen,hull down to the northward, every telescope is brought to bear upon it; it is the pilot brig hove to with ensign at the peak, and the triumph of navigation is complete. Every stitch of canvas is now stretched upon the old ship, she closes with the little brig, a boat is lowered, the weather-worn, and yet well-worn pilot comes on
