THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. 213 
“To prevent these frightful rencontres, care is 
always taken to hoist out the boats in good time, 
if need be, to tow the ships apart, or, what is gene- 
rally sufficient, to tow the ships’ heads in opposite 
directions. I scarcely know why this should have 
the effect; but certainly it appears that, be the calm 
ever so complete, or dead, as the term is, a vessel 
generally forges ahead, or steals along imperceptibly 
in the direction she is looking to; possibly from the 
conformation of the hull.”* 
But there are indications of our patience being 
at length rewarded by a breeze from the eastward; 
and now it comes, rippling the surface as it ap- 
proaches, turning that into a deep uniform blue 
which has so long borne a glassy brightness reflected 
from the sky. The seamen are joyous and alert, 
for they know that this is no “cat’s-paw,”’ but the 
“regular trade.” Now it strikes the ship; the 
sails, gracefully swelling, receive the unwonted im- 
pulse; and the lengthened wake, where the water 
coils and- frets in the newly-cut furrow, tells that 
the vessel makes way once more. The breeze 
freshens; the little waves become larger, and, arch- 
ing over each other, break with patches of whiten- 
ing foam; every sail is speedily set that will draw; 
and we run gaily along towards the west, ucder an 
eight-knot breeze. We can scarcely stop to notice 
the amity that subsists between the Shark and the 
Pilot-fish (Naucrates ductor), a beautiful little crea- 
ture, about the size of a herring, the back striped 
transversely with broad alternate bands of brown and 
* Frag. Voy. and Trav. 2nd Series, i. p. 226. 
