A FORLORN QUEST, ETC. 245 



to-day possible for the boats to hold their anchors. 

 A. K. M. determined to remain ashore. He had 

 not, he said, been born great, nor did he particu- 

 larly wish to have greatness thrust upon him, 

 but was content to take his pleasure unambi- 

 tiously on dry land. The fact is he thought 

 himself a much worse sailor than he really was, 

 and was for ever dreading sickness, but never, to 

 my knowledge, sick. On one rather trying day 

 off Funchal, a day of oily calm but heavy ground 

 swell, he certainly did behave from time to time 

 in a manner that I have not previously witnessed 

 under those conditions. He lay on his back in 

 the bottom of the boat, pulled a sail over his face 

 to keep the sun off, and then broke out in a series 

 of amazing Irish songs, chiefly about brave doings 

 at fairs, which won the heart of the crew. As he 

 never developed this talent for singing at any 

 other period of our acquaintance, I was reminded 

 of Thackeray's confession, that the best thing 

 he ever wrote in his life (I think it was the surgeon's 

 song in " Harry Rollicker ") was done when he 

 was desperately sick on an Austrian Lloyd boat. 



When Cossart and I had come to our heroic 

 resolution, " Beicana " was despatched as envoy- 

 extraordinary to one of the numerous tunny boats 

 riding at their anchorage opposite our camp to 

 arrange the price of our admission for some hours. 

 Eventually I gave the Reis a sovereign, and he 



