On that day a merchantman hove in sight, which, with favouring breezes and all sail set, soon bore down on us. She came down without any flag, and stood right across our bows at so short a distance that we could plainly read her name—the Bunker's Hill, of Boston—on her stern. Thereupon we ran up our flag; and, as it is as gross a breach of the code of maritime politeness for a ship to pass across the bows of another in the open ocean without saluting, as for a man on land to brush quickly across another's path without apologizing, a blank shot was fired at this unmannerly American. To this manifestation etiquette lays it down that, as the hoisting of her flag by a man-of-war is a direct challenge for any merchantman that may be in sight to hoist its flag, any neglect of these universally recognized rules must involuntarily give rise to suspicions. After we had fired the blank shot, the American, by a telegraph of flag-signals, enquired the latitude and longitude, which in merchant ships in the open sea is pretty frequently resorted to, in order to know where precisely they are, as they are not able to make such frequent observations as ships of war. Before anything else, however, it was necessary to settle the question of saluting; and this the obstinate Yankee, in spite of the warning signal, seemed resolved not to notice, although he well knew the seriousness of his position, as was abundantly evident in the celerity with which several ladies and gentlemen, whom we could discern on deck, flew to seek shelter below! A second report, accompanied by a ball over his stern, at last brought this pertinacious captain to his senses, and the whistling of the shot had the desired effect. The "Stars and Stripes" were run up, upon which we signalled the required latitude and longitude. Probably it was but a petulant explosion of a silly national vanity, as also the consciousness of commanding a handsome crack "clipper," that could speedily run out of gun-shot, which led to this premeditated and persistent violation of one of the most ordinary rules of politeness. Indeed, even the vessels of the North American navy itself are frequently compelled in the open sea to treat their fellow-countrymen in a similar manner; and the captain of the war-steamer Minnesota, looking after the North American interests in China, was obliged, as we learned afterwards at Shanghai, to enforce a compliance with established sea usages on one of his seafaring compatriots, by dint of cannon-shot, in accordance with the undoubted practice of all maritime nations.

The south-east Trade, which we had hoped would drive us on our destined course, was not so strong or so steady as we had expected, chiefly perhaps in consequence of the influence exercised by the Australian continent, the temperature of which during this, the summer season of the Southern Hemisphere, is raised to an extraordinary degree by its sandy surface, that when the air has become thus warmed, it ascends and becomes more rarefied in its lower strata, in consequence of which its elasticity becomes so great as to drive back the surrounding colder atmosphere, and only admit it to contact with the heated air at its most remote limits. This occurs the more readily, that the heated air, after it has risen to the more rarefied tracts, expands on all sides, and at a certain distance from the lower level, begins to add to the pressure of the atmosphere. In this self-acting zone of increased atmospheric pressure, the winds, however, are naturally more faint, and, to observers who happen to be on the exterior of this zone, always appear to take their rise from the further side. For this reason, probably, we fell in with easterly breezes, so long as we had the Northern portion of Australia to the eastward of us.

At any rate, the equilibrium of the air seemed to be disturbed, as we could plainly perceive from the weather and the confused sea. At last on 18th December, the heavens seemed somewhat more propitious, though the wind still continued easterly; indeed occasionally blew from the north, and frequent squalls of rain poured pitilessly down upon us. The more, however, we increased our distance from the Australian continent, that is, from all land to the eastward, the more steadily blew the south east Trade. And so we kept standing steadily forwards, till at last, on the 24th December, in 6° 4′ S. Lat., and 82° 34′ E. Long., we reached the eastern boundaries of the Trades and got into that of calms.

The heat, which thus far had spared us, began now to be most oppressive, and was felt all the more owing to the air being extraordinarily damp and dense. Frequently in the afternoon a passing shower of rain, which would sometimes completely flood the deck, would cool the air for a few fleeting moments. Occasionally indeed we had westerly and more rarely north-westerly breezes, but these were never of long duration, and were incessantly broken by rains and squalls.

And at this same season, at which in our distant Fatherland, palace and hut are decked out with unwonted attention, when golden fruits and elegant presents glitter from the green fir-branches of the Christmas Tree, all lit up with the neat little wax-tapers, when man's heart seems to overflow with cheerfulness and love of his fellow-creatures,—at this season we were languishing far from our dear ones, tormented with the intense heat, scarcely able to realize to ourselves, that at home it must now be snow and frost, while keen Boreas is whirling the snowflakes aloft, and howling a grim accompaniment the while! However, we promised ourselves the satisfaction of enjoying these pleasures at our own firesides, whereupon our recollections of home and dear friends imparted to our minds a wholesome stimulus, arising from the soul-inspiring conviction, that we too were present in their minds and hearts at this hallowed season. Nay, several of the officers of the Novara Expedition were surprised when far at sea, in the very midst of the Indian Ocean, with Christmas gifts, which thoughtful friends had many months before entrusted to the care of discreet fellow-voyagers.

After constantly struggling against calms and contrary winds, exactly at the first stroke of the New Year, at midnight of 31st December-1st January, we reached the Equator, which we were now crossing for the second time, and began the year 1858 in the Northern Hemisphere.

On this New Year's Day we had nearly had a great disaster. A lad who was coming down the shrouds fell overboard. The sea was perfectly calm and smooth, but already on the morning of this very day we had seen many sharks, those dreaded foes of man in the domain of ocean, so that the life of the unfortunate youth seemed seriously imperilled. The same instant in which the youth fell, saw a life-buoy thrown over, a boat prepared for lowering, and all usual appliances for a rescue made available. But although an excellent swimmer, he seemed to lose all presence of mind, probably through fear, and must undoubtedly have been drowned, had not the boatswain's mate, and two other sailors, leaped into the water and made all haste to his assistance. Meanwhile the boat had been got into the water, by which rescued and rescuers were got safe on board again.

A few months later, the boatswain's mate, for his gallant conduct on this occasion, received, by the express orders of His Majesty, the silver cross of merit, while the sailors were advanced one grade.

The current, which runs northward along the coast of Australia, but turns off to the westward about the tenth degree of South latitude, so as to pass southward of Ceylon, directly along the Equator to the Coast of Africa, carried us far to the westward, in consequence of which we had overcast, uncertain weather, with, for the most part, calms or light breezes. As we found ourselves approaching the fourth degree of Northern latitude, a rather fresh N.E. wind sprung up, probably the trade wind of the Northern Hemisphere, which, however, as we neared Ceylon, again died away to a calm.

At the same time, in lat. 5° 32′ N., 79° 5′ E., we fell in with a current running more than two miles an hour. We had, as it turned out, got to the westward of the roadstead of Point de Galle, in Ceylon, and found some little difficulty in making headway against the current. On 7th January, toward 3.30 p. m., land was made to the eastward, and an hour later, a Cingalese canoe was perceived making for the frigate under sail. It was the pilot boat, whose crew, having been informed by a Hamburg brig that a large ship was in sight, had put to sea to meet us.