126 TEE CRUISE OF THE "CACHALOT." 



empty-banded. We bad also a '' jumper," or blouse, full 

 of eggs, and a couple of immense buncbes of cocoa-nuts. 

 Wben we got on board we felt quite bappy, and, for tbe 

 first time since leaving America, we bad a little singing. 

 Sball I be laugbed at wben I confess tbat our musical 

 efforts were confined to Sankey's bymns ? Maybe, but 

 I do not care. Cbeap and clap-trap as tbe music may 

 be, it tasted "real good," as Abner said, and I am quite 

 sure tbat tbat Sunday nigbt was tbe best that any of us 

 bad spent for a very long time. 



A long, sound sleep was terminated at dawn, wben 

 we weigbed and stood out tbrougb a narrow passage by 

 East Island, whicb was quite covered with fine trees — of 

 wbat kind I do not know, but tbey presented a beautiful 

 sigbt. Myriads of birds bovered about, busy fisbing 

 from tbe countless scbools tbat rippled tbe placid sea. 

 Beneatb us, at twenty fatboms, tbe wonderful arcbitec- 

 ture of tbe coral was plainly visible tbrougb tbe 

 brilliantly-clear sea, wbile, wberever tbe tiny builders 

 bad raised tbeir fairy domain near tbe surface, an 

 occasional roller would crown it witb a snowy garland of 

 foam — a dazzling patcb of wbite against tbe sappbire 

 sea. Altogether, such a panorama was spread out at 

 our feet, as we stood gazing from the lofty crow's-nest, as 

 was worth a year or two of city life to witness. I could 

 not help pitying my companion, one of tbe Portuguese 

 barpooners, who stolidly munched bis quid witb no eyes 

 for any of these glorious pictures, no thought of anything 

 but a possible wbale in sigbt. 



My silent rhapsodies were rudely interrupted by 

 something far away on the horizon. Hardly daring to 

 breathe, I strained my eyes, and — yes, it was — " Ah 

 blow-w-w-w ! " I bellowed at tbe top of my lung-power. 



