Caught Aback in a White Squall—on a Reef in Mid Ocean—The Lost Dhow.
The Bunting had orders to take dispatches for the East India station before bearing up for England by way of the Cape, for the Suez Canal was not yet open.
To be sure they would much have preferred to turn southwards at once.
But after all a month or so more could make but little difference after so long a commission—they had been away from England now nearly five long years.
On the very next day, however, after the dinner-party, steam was got up, and the Bunting departed from Zanzibar.
How merrily the men worked now! How cheerfully they sang! Everybody seemed in better temper than his neighbour. For were they not, virtually speaking, homeward bound.
“If we do happen to come across another prize you know,” said Captain Wayland to Mr Dewar, “we won’t say no to her, will we?”
“That we won’t, sir,” was the laughing reply; “the more the merrier, and it won’t be my fault if a good outlook isn’t kept both by night and day.”
Sailors love the sea, and quite delight, as the old song tells us, in—
“A wet sheet and a flowing sail.”