"And is not this very city, Madras, where we have been so heartily welcomed, the best proof of the energy and perseverance of the political and commercial greatness of the British nation? Nothing but English steadiness and English perseverance could succeed to build on this barren, inhospitable, and even most perilous coast, a vast, flourishing city, rivalling in size and the number of inhabitants the largest capitals in Europe! And what is still more pleasing and satisfactory, is the intellectual and physical condition in which one finds the Indians, especially if compared with the condition of the natives in North and Central America, &c. There he meets a population, rapidly dying away, in proportion as the axe of civilization is resounding from the backwoods. One may almost determinate the day when the last of the red men will have disappeared from the North American Continent, the land of his ancestors! Here in India, on the contrary, the traveller meets with a thriving, industrious population. Who can see Hindoos, Malabar, Sentus, &c., occupy most important employments at the observatory, at the telegraph offices, at the railroad, in any branch almost of the public service, and still believe the Hindoo race like the Indians of North America to be a doomed people—to be a people that has no future? No, it has a future, and, under the wise and humane government of the British Crown, I am sure the coloured race of India will even have a most glorious future!

"These are the impressions and feelings, gentlemen, with which we part from Madras, with which I and my scientific colleagues bid you all a most sincere and heartfelt farewell."

As a number of our new-found friends expressed a wish, notwithstanding the difficulties of getting out to, and back from the roads, to visit our ship, the commodore invited some forty guests, shortly before our departure, to a "tiffin" on board. Although the frigate rolled pretty heavily, yet we, nevertheless, had the pleasure of the company of some twenty gentlemen and ten ladies. After "tiffin," which was served on the poop, under a tent improvised with flags for the occasion, all felt sufficiently comfortable to try a dance on the quarter-deck, our band of music being called into requisition for quadrilles, polkas, and waltzes; and, indeed, our guests paid so little attention to the approach of night, that their return was postponed till it was absolutely dark, of which opportunity we gladly availed ourselves to light our pleasant guests homewards with Bengal lights.

PLATE VII.—TRACK FROM MADRAS TO THE NICOBAR ISLANDS.
[Larger.]

At length, on 10th February, shortly after noon, we set sail. As the frigate was perceived, from Fort George to weigh anchor, a thundering salute was fired of 21 guns—an extraordinary honour and mark of attention, to which we responded by a similar salute. In consequence of calms and light winds, we were 48 hours ere losing sight of land; and it was not till the 12th February we could proceed on our voyage. For several evenings after, that magnificent, and as yet unexplained, phenomenon, the Zodiacal light, which is conjectured by the greatest physicist of our age, to be the beams radiated from a vapour-like, flattened ring, revolving in the space between the orbits of Mercury and Venus, was visible with much regularity. What was afterwards observed, however, of this remarkable zone of light, during the course of our voyage, will be found detailed in the meteorological portion of the scientific volumes. Unbroken fine weather accompanied us during our entire voyage to the Nicobar Islands, our next station. But although, as was rendered necessary by the climate so near the Equator, we were clothed entirely in summer apparel, and there was nothing to remind us of its being winter and carnival at home, our sailors did not let Shrove Tuesday pass over without celebrating that day, to be marked with a white stone, by masking and dancing according to ancient custom. Jack has an especially good memory for the return of such junketings, and is by no means prone to letting the sensible vicinity of the Equator put him out of his reckoning; so he danced near the line also, not because he had any pleasure therein, but because it has always been his custom to do so at carnival-time!

The state of health of the ship's company was excellent, there being but eight on the sick list, of whom only two were seriously ill.

On the 22nd February towards 10 a. m. the Island of Kar-Nicobar hove in sight, and towards afternoon we found ourselves but a few miles distant. The land seemed for the most part level, only a low eminence thickly covered with frost rising towards the centre. The coast was overgrown with cocoa-nut-palm. In the N.W. and S.E. we could see three Malay boats at anchor. On the beach were some huts of beehive-like shape, in and out of which naked brown figures were seen moving; while, as night fell, numerous lights glimmered from the shore.

The following morning, Tuesday 23rd February, 1858, we anchored off the N.W. side of the island, in 14½ fathoms coral sand, about 2 miles distant from the shore, and just between the two villages of Mosse and Sàui, each consisting of a few huts. One can approach within 3 or 4 cable-lengths of the shore, where there are still 10 fathoms, with clay bottom. Several natives, some naked, some with their bodies covered in the most ludicrous fashion with cast-off European clothes, approached the frigate while she was being secured, in small but elegant canoes, and called out anxiously when within hailing distance, in an inquisitive tone and a broken English, "No fear? good friend?" which we interpreted into an inquiry as to whether they had anything to fear, and whether we were disposed to be friendly. When, however, we did not immediately throw them a rope to make fast their little canoes, and they got sight of our numerous guns, they speedily turned tail and hurried away.