FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 67 
flags, and then had a spell at the wheel, and poor sport 
it was. I would as soon drive a dray horse. The pleasure 
of steering seems to be in inverse proportion to the size 
of the vessel. When a craft is over five tons, then the 
subtlety and pleasure of steering begins to go. When the 
wind, the sail, the tiller and the hand are one, joined by 
the same delicate thread of sensation, then there is perfect 
pleasure. But to steer our good ship Balsena with a 
wind on the quarter is rough-and-tumble work. 
These light winds, head winds, and calms are beginning 
to make us all suspect there is something wrong about 
our ship. What is wrong, we scarcely know ! Some 
say there is a man on board who has left his tailor's bill 
unpaid, and there is a talk of burning somebody's effigy 
to see what effect that would have on the wind ; but the 
difficulty is, whose effigy is to be burned ? Suspicion has 
fallen on a black cat that leads a dog's life on board. It 
goes wandering abouS the deck, and belongs to no one in 
particular. This morning it got itself into trouble by 
coming aft the mainmast from the focsle, where it is 
supposed to have its quarters. For a focsle hand to do 
this without orders is a heinous offence. It then stole 
into the first mate's bunk, where he was enjoying his well- 
earned four hours below. When the mate felt it stealing 
over his legs his actions were prompt and his language 
explicit, and so were the cat's. Then it made its way into 
the cabin, that Holy of Holies, and in its expulsion 
endangered our curry, which we were doing our best to 
balance on the table ; thence it got down into the sailroom, 
and in the dark, amongst the wet sails, sorrowed for itself. 
