The inhabitants of Nosi Be consider the fleet the cause of there being so little rain. It generally comes down in bucketfuls every day during the rainy season. Now the rain is coming at intervals and it is bad for the crops. The natives are making offerings and have started a religious procession. Perhaps they are right, and the fleet is the cause of so little rain. It is necessary for the downpour of tropical rain that much electricity should collect in the air. It may be that the masts of our ships conduct the current of electricity into the water, not allowing it to collect in sufficient quantities in the air for rain. Doubtless the natives explain it differently.
More and more frequently, at times, there falls on me complete oblivion to my surroundings. I have become absolutely apathetic. Everything is quite indistinct. Nothing interests me. My mind is crushed. I have such attacks of endless despair, such fancies, such horrible thoughts, that, by God, I do not know what to do, where to hide, or how to forget myself.
8 p.m.—We have returned and anchored at Nosi Be. To-morrow the fleet must go to sea again for firing.
Since this morning they have been painting my cabin. How am I to sleep? It smells strongly of paint and turpentine. It will most probably give me a headache.
The French torpedo-boats have brought neither telegrams nor news to-day. I got up early this morning and had no rest during the day, am fearfully tired, and shall have to get up earlier than ever.
January 19th.—Since communication with the shore is forbidden, I have to take every opportunity of sending my letters. I think it will be difficult for you to read my epistles. They are full of broken, unconnected sentences and muddled incidents. It will most likely be difficult for me to make them out myself. You receive several at a time, and that makes it more confused.
Up till 8 a.m. we were getting up anchor, and then we went out to sea. Yesterday a projectile ricochetted on to the Donskoi. It touched the bridge, slightly damaged it, and flew further. No one was killed or wounded, thank God! It might have had a much worse ending.
At five o'clock we returned to Nosi Be, not having hit anything this time.
The admiral received a letter from the individual whom they suspected of being a spy, in which he complains of the unjust accusation. He says that an officer tried to poison him when he went on board the Ural, and that the Governor has offered to send him away from Nosi Be. Finally, he begs for money for his passage. The contractor with whom he came on board explained to the Governor about him. Among other things the contractor says that the man is continually disappearing, that they had to look for him in the ship, and that once he ate from the common tub with the crew. Knowing Russian, he was able to hide from the officers.