CHAPTER II.
Departure from Plymouth—Reflections on Leaving England—Cabin Attendants—Live Stock—Mr. Jenkins and “the Pure Element”—N.E. Trades—Red Atlantic Dust—Short Allowance of Water—Viewing the “Line”—The Southern Cross—A Lady Navigator—“Fire! Fire!”—The Maniac—Arrival at the Cape.
It was a beautiful Sunday evening when we again embarked in the “Ireland.” The gale had been succeeded by a calm which lent enchantment to the view of the rich and varied scenery of Plymouth harbour. Evening was closing in, and anon from the shore might be heard the bells of the churches and chapels calling on man to praise his Maker.
The steam was up, the passengers were all embarked, the latest mail-bags had just arrived, so that the “Ireland” once more moved into the English Channel. This time the “Channel of Old England” was as still as a mill-pond, and mirrored the bright stars of the firmament as the busy steamers glided about with their red and green lights, warning each other of danger.
Many an eye was cast on the receding shores of that loved island, never to gaze upon it more. Many sad hearts were sighing for homes never to be visited again.
Of the numerous passengers pacing that deck, and thinking of those who would miss them at the accustomed hearths, as the long winter evenings set in, how few were destined to return to the homes they loved so well!
Some of the brave men who talked so lightly then, and tried to cheer the drooping spirits of their fair companions, were to be sorely tried in a distant clime, and to fall gloriously struggling to retain India for the land of their birth.
Wives going to their longing husbands were destined never to meet them—or only in danger and in death.
Longing hearts were then on the way to be wedded to those whose plight had been trothed many years before, and now, having earned independence, invited their young loves to share it.