January 2nd.—The Kuban has arrived. To-morrow I may go on board her. I have journeyed somewhat to-day. After lunch I went to the Aurora, Nachimoff, Jemchug, Sissoi, and Voronej. The latter belongs to the volunteer fleet. On board her I procured a thousand cigarettes for ten roubles. I was much pleased with this. In going on board the Aurora I lost the top of my helmet. It acted as a ventilator, and cannot be replaced. I must go about without it.
Several of us, I among the number, have prickly heat. It is not very disquieting, but at the same time does not afford any pleasure. In the Jemchug, where I have not been since Libau, they did not recognise me. I am so changed in face, owing to my beard.
We remain here, and know nothing of when and where we are going. Probably we shall wait for the Oleg, Isumrud, and torpedo-boats. Persistent rumours are floating about that the fleet will return. Letters have been received from Sevastopol with very bad news. It is said that the sailors there have mutinied and created much trouble. They say there are serious disorders in Petersburg.
To-day I should have gone to some ships, but could not, as all the boats were away for the exercise of landing parties. Finished my work, "Notes on Ships of the Borodino Type." Handed them into the office to be typewritten. If it is true that we leave on the 6th or 7th, I shall hardly be able to send them to Petersburg. Can it be that we shall not wait for the Oleg and other ships coming with her? That would be idiotic! To stay quietly and strengthen the fleet does not interfere with the cruisers and torpedo-boats.
January 3rd.—What a day it has been! I scarcely got through lunch when, at two o'clock, I went to the Donskoi, from there to the Borodino, and then to the Ural. Have only just returned to the Suvaroff, having had nothing to eat anywhere, and now only bread-and-butter. It is a good thing I fortified myself with chocolate. The Ural is the former steamer Queen Maria Theresa. She ran between Hamburg and America.
There are a lot of sick in the fleet; two belong to the staff, the flag engineer and the flag intendant. The senior auditor is sick, but is doing his duty. It is the fault of this climate.
January 4th.—I have been to the Kuban, which was formerly a German passenger steamer and ran across the Atlantic Ocean. She has all the conveniences of life, is roomy and luxurious, but as a warship the Kuban, like the other purchased ships, is useless. She has few guns; their calibre is small, and there is no armoured protection. All is wood.
More animals have made their appearance in the ship. They have brought a hare, a porcupine, and a dog off from the shore. Wherever you look now you see birds, beasts, or vermin. On deck oxen are standing ready to be slaughtered for meat, to say nothing of fowls, geese, and ducks. In the cabins are monkeys, parrots, and chameleons.
Having scratched you a letter, I went to put it with some postcards into the box. At the post-office were crowds of people, hurrying to post letters to catch the outgoing steamer. I scarcely waited to buy stamps for the postcards. As stamps would stick together while being kept, those having greater values are not covered with gum. This is very inconvenient, as you have not always gum at hand. I had to buy some gum-arabic in a shop. Indians are the principal shopkeepers here. Boys in the street call out simple words of Russian, and frequently repeat them. Profiting by the arrival of the fleet, everything is dreadfully dear. They have never before done such a roaring trade. One of the places here has a high-sounding name—"Parisian Café." The landlord of this café says that after the departure of the fleet he will close it and go to Paris. He will never earn more than now.
From the post-office I went to this café. They persuaded me to play vint (Russian whist). Close by were a lot of officers playing macao. They play very high (during our stay at Nosi Be one officer succeeded in losing more than £400—i.e. 4000 roubles). I did not sit down to play macao; but just trifled with it, lost sixty francs, and then went to the quay. It was time—just six o'clock—and the boat was due to shove off. By seven I was on board, having been on shore less than four hours. On going into my cabin I learnt some news. We leave on the 7th. The post was sent by Günsburg. Whether we leave Madagascar on the 7th, or are only going to change our anchorage, I do not know. Either is possible.