310 
SOUTH SEA 
sun threw its scorching rays upon the whitened deck, 
and by its reflection redoubled the insufferable light and 
heat. Not a fish enlivened the barren waters ; a solitary 
bird now and then passed along, struggling with lazy 
flight, but nothing arose to rouse us from the dreary 
stillness which prevailed. At night no sound of rushing 
water passed outside the plank, no hissing spray dis- 
turbed the sailor’s sleep,— naught but the solitary sound 
of the watch’s footstep could be heard above, with now 
and then the impatient whistle, with “blow Saint An- 
tonio ” breaking from their lips, invoking the wind in 
the old Spanish style. And then, when all was hushed 
again, the thought of home would rise ! the long con- 
tinued absence from the girls they loved,— the mighty 
distance that between them lies,— the thought of faith- 
lessness of those to whom betrothed,— the favoured rival 
carrying off the prize,— the dangers they have passed 
and which are yet to come,— all fell upon the inactive 
and melancholy mind. 
Eight days and nights had now passed in almost a 
“ dead calm,” during which our mental sufferings were 
such as to defy description, and nothing but being 
placed in the same situation could convince those who 
have not the power to imagine its monotonous dreari- 
ness ; but on the ninth morning a gradual swell of the 
sea arose, which to our unspeakable delight was followed 
by a gentle wind. Aw r ay dull melancholy fled, and buoy- 
ant hope again sprang up with jocund bound, and 
cheered the sailor’s heart. 
We now sailed onwards to the “ Lousiade Islands,”' 
