Aug. 27th.—Lat. 32° 9′ S., long. 4° 25′ E.—A dead calm! give me any day a storm and a half in preference! It was so miserable—a long heavy swell, without a ripple on the waves; the ship rolled from side to side without advancing one inch; she groaned in all her timbers: the old ‘Marchioness’ appeared to suffer and be as miserable as myself. The calm continued the next day, and the rolling also; the captain kindly allowed the jolly-boat to be lowered, in which some of the Lancers and my husband went out shooting.

This day, the 28th of August, was the commencement of the shooting season: game was in abundance, and they sought it over the long heavy swell of the glasslike and unrippled sea. The sportsmen returned with forty head of game: in this number was an albatross, measuring nine feet from the tip of one wing to that of the other; a Cape hen, a sea-swallow, with several pintado and other birds.

When the boat returned, it brought good fortune; the wind instantly sprang up, and we went on our way rejoicing. This day a whale was seen at a distance; if it had approached the vessel, a captain of the Lancers had prepared a Congreve rocket for its acceptance.

Sept. 1st.—We spoke a Dutchman off the Cape, looking in a very pitiable condition: the same gale which had damaged her overtook us, and blew heavily and disagreeably for three days. The weather was very cold and wet, and we felt disappointed at not touching at the Cape.

Sept. 10th.—Lat. 36° 43′ S., lon. 45° 30′ W., ther. 64°.—Another calm, and another battue: the gentlemen returned from the watery plain with great éclat, bringing seven albatross, thirty pintados, a Cape hen, and two garnets. One of the albatross, which was stuffed for me, measured fifty-three inches from head to tail, and nine feet ten inches across the wings.

Sept. 20th.—In the evening we passed St. Paul’s and Amsterdam, but the haziness of the weather prevented our seeing them. This, the most southerly point of our voyage, was also the coldest. The cold was really painful.

Sept. 23.—A school[10] of twenty or thirty whales passed near the ship; it was almost a calm; they were constantly on the surface, frolicking and spouting away. They were, the sailors said, of the spermaceti order, which are smaller in size, and do not spout so high as the larger race. I was disappointed. Two of the officers of the Lancers rowed within ten yards of a large whale, and fired a Congreve rocket into its body; the whale gave a spring and dived instantly. The rocket would explode in a few seconds and kill him: a good prize for the first ship that falls in with the floating carcase. They fired at another, but the rocket exploded under water and came up smoking to the surface. The boat returned safely to the ship, but it was rather a nervous affair.

Sept. 25th.—Another calm allowed of more shooting, and great was the slaughter of sea game. I must make an extract from Colonel Luard’s work, speaking of a battle that took place on the 10th:—“The Cape hen was a large fierce black bird, and only having its wing broken, tried to bite every person’s legs in the boat. When she was placed on the ship’s quarter-deck, a small terrier belonging to one of the officers attacked her, and they fought for some time with uncertain advantage; the bloody streams from the dog proving the severity of the bird’s bite: at last the terrier seized his adversary by the throat, when the battle and the bird’s life ended together. In lat. 4° 13′ S., long. 93° 11′ E., the thermometer in the sun standing at 130°, and in the shade 97°, two small birds, in every respect resembling the English swallow, came about the ship. One of them was caught, and died; the other (probably in hopes of rejoining its companion) remained with the ship fourteen or fifteen days, frequently coming into the cabins and roosting there during the night. It was at last missing; and, not being an aquatic bird, perhaps met a watery death.”

During the time of the battue on the third day, three sharks were astern; we caught one that had a young one by her side. When opened on deck, a family of twenty-four were found, each about twelve or fourteen inches long; the mother measured seven feet. The shark is said to swallow its young when in peril, and to disgorge them when the danger has passed. The curious birds and fish we see relieve the tedium of the voyage.

We now looked impatiently for the end of our passage, and counted the days like schoolboys expecting their vacation. It was amusing to hear the various plans the different people on board intended to pursue on landing—all too English by far for the climate to which they were bound.