84 FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC 
hat gleams white as a ghost-moth's wing, and his face is 
in deep shadow. He, too, stands almost motionless ; for 
the Balaena needs scarcely any steering with this light air. 
. . . Slowly to and fro the dusty-white sails swing across the 
sky, showing and hiding alternately a glowing star. The 
mainsail, half clewed up, hangs like a grand stage curtain 
in splendid folds ; and beneath it the deserted main-deck 
and the galley are lit by the full flood of light which stops 
suddenly at the impenetrable shadow which the fore- 
sail throws across the deck. The men are sitting in the 
shadow, to avoid the baneful light, and I hear them talking 
slowly in subdued voices. . . . Now a boy's voice rises on 
the night,— -exquisitely clear and tuneful. The notes seem 
to rise and linger in the sails and lose themselves in the 
velvet darkness beyond. It is the * stowaway y singing, and 
I go forward to listen, enchanted by the sound. 
. . . Men and boys sit round him on the deck and on 
the spare spars listening enthralled. The reflected moon- 
light from the deck touches a bare arm or foot here and 
there, and gleams with a half light on the singer's pale 
face. 
Sunday, <^th October. — Another day of perfect rest, sun- 
shine, and cool breeze. The old Spanish sailors called 
this eastern ocean the Ladies' Gulf or Bay, and truly they 
named it well. One could fancy a ladies' ship on such a 
sunny sea, sailed by a lady crew : parasols and veils would 
look beautiful against the rippling blue waves, and the 
crew might read Tennyson and wear pretty dresses for 
weeks together in such a pleasant summer sea without 
