In the region of the "brave west winds," it would seem that the northern segment always pa.s.ses over that belt of the ocean. The received theory of these south polar-winds, is not such as I have a.s.sumed. Former writers have not supposed them to be circular winds at all. They suppose them to pa.s.s over the south-east trade-winds, as an upper current, and when they have reached the proper parallel, to descend, become surface-winds, and blow home, as straight winds, to the pole. But I found a difficulty in reconciling this theory with the periodical veering of the wind entirely around the compa.s.s, as above described. If these were straight winds, blowing contrary to the trades, why should they not blow steadily like the trades? But if we drop the straight-wind theory, and take up the circular hypothesis, all the phenomena observed by us will be in conformity with the latter. The periodical hauling of the wind will be accounted for, and if we suppose that the northern half of the circle invariably pa.s.ses over the ship, in the pa.s.sage-parallels, we shall see how it is that the wind is blowing nearly all the time from the westward. To account for the fact that the northern half of the circle invariably pa.s.ses over these parallels, we have only to suppose the circle to be of sufficient diameter to extend to, or near the pole.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Here is the figure. It extends from the parallel of 40, to the pole; it is therefore fifty degrees, or three thousand miles, in diameter. Half-way from its northern to its southern edge, would be the 65th parallel. Along this parallel, represented by the dotted line, which pa.s.ses through the centre of the circle, the vortex, V, or calm spot, would travel. There should be calms, therefore, about the 65th parallel. In the southern half of the circle, or that portion of it between the vortex and the pole, easterly winds should prevail. Navigators between the parallels of 65 and 75, speak of calms as the normal meteorological condition. All nature seems frozen to death, the winds included. Unfortunately, we have no reliable data for the parallels beyond, and do not know, therefore, whether easterly winds are the prevalent winds or not. It is probable, as we approached the pole, that we should find another calm. The winds, [see the arrows,] as they come hurrying along the circle, from its northern segment, bring with them an impetus _toward_ the east, derived from the diurnal motion of the earth, on its axis. As these winds approach the pole, this velocity increases, in consequence of the diminishing diameter of the parallels. To ill.u.s.trate. If a particle of air on the equator, having a velocity eastward of fifteen miles per minute--and this is the rate of the revolution of the earth on its axis--should be suddenly transported to a point, distant five miles from the pole, it would have sufficient velocity to carry it entirely around the pole in one minute.

Here we have two forces acting in opposition to each other--the impetus of the wind _toward_ the east, given to it by the diurnal motion of the earth, and an impetus _from_ the east, given to it by whatever causes are hurrying it around the circle. These two forces necessarily neutralize each other, and a calm is the consequence. It is in this calm region near the poles, that the winds probably ascend, to take their flight back to the equator, in obedience to that beautiful arrangement for watering the earth, which I described some pages back.

There remains but one other fact to be reconciled with our theory. It has been seen that consecutive circles of wind pa.s.sed over the _Alabama_, in periods of three days each. Did this time correspond with the known rate of travel of the circles? Almost precisely. Referring again to the last diagram, it will be remembered that the _Alabama_ was near the northern edge of the circle. Let A A represent her position at the beginning and end of each wind. The chord of the segment, represented by the dotted line, is about 1500 miles in length. The circles travel at the rate of about 20 miles per hour. Multiply the number of hours--72--in three days, by 20, and we shall have 1440 miles. It is not pretended, of course, that these figures are strictly accurate, but they are sufficiently so to show, at least, that there is no discordance between the fact and the theory.

Soon after leaving the Cape of Good Hope, the storm-birds began to gather around us in considerable numbers--the Cape pigeon, the albatross, and occasionally the tiny petrel, so abundant in the North Atlantic. These birds seemed to be quite companionable, falling in company with the ship, and travelling with her for miles at a time. On the occasion of one of the short calms described, we caught an albatross, with hook and line, which measured ten feet across the wings. The monster bird was very fat, and it was quite a lift to get it inboard. Though very active on the wing, and rising with great facility from the water, in which it sometimes alights, it lay quite helpless when placed upon the deck. It did not seem to be much alarmed at the strangeness of its position, but looked at us with the quiet dignity and wisdom of an owl, as though it would interrogate us as to what we were doing in its dominions. These birds live in the midst of the great Indian Ocean, thousands of miles away from any land--only making periodical visits to some of the desert islands; or, it may be, to the Antarctic Continent, to incubate and rear their young.

I have described at some length the nature of the great circles of wind which form the normal meteorological condition of the region of ocean through which we were pa.s.sing. This normal condition was sometimes interfered with by the pa.s.sage of cyclones of smaller diameter--a circle within a circle; both circles, however, obeying the same laws. We took one of these cyclones on the 5th of October. I do not design to repeat, here, the description of a cyclone, and only refer to that which we now encountered, for the purpose of showing that the _Alabama ran a race with it, and was not very badly beaten_. This race is thus described in my journal: "Morning dull, cloudy, and cool. The wind hauled, last night, to north, and is blowing a fresh breeze at noon. Barometer, 30.14.

Thermometer, air 54, water 60. Current during the last twenty-four hours, thirty miles east. The weather continued to thicken in the afternoon, and the wind to increase, with a falling barometer, indicating the approach of a gale. At nine P. M., the squalls becoming heavy, we furled the top-gallant sails and foresail, close-reefed the topsails, and took the bonnets off the trysails. Under this reduced sail we continued to scud the ship all night--the barometer still falling, the wind increasing, and a heavy sea getting up. We had entered the north-eastern edge of a cyclone. The next morning the wind was still north by west, having hauled only a single point in twelve hours; showing that we had been running, neck and neck, with the gale.

If the reader will recollect that, in these circular gales, the change of the wind is due to the pa.s.sage of the circle over the ship, he will have no difficulty in conceiving that, if the ship travels as fast as the circle, and in the same direction, the wind will not change at all. Now, as the wind had changed but a single point in twelve hours, it is evident that the _Alabama_ had been travelling nearly as fast as the circular gale. The race continued all the next day--the wind not varying half a point, and the barometer settling by scarcely perceptible degrees. Toward night, however, the barometer began to settle quite rapidly, and the wind increased, and began to haul to the westward. The gale had acquired accelerated speed, and was now evidently pa.s.sing ahead of us quite rapidly; for by half-past four A. M. the wind was at west, having hauled nearly a quadrant in twelve hours. At this point we had the lowest barometer, 29.65. The centre of the storm was then just abreast of us, bearing about south, and distant perhaps a hundred miles. At five A. M., or in half an hour afterward, the wind shifted suddenly from W. to W. S.

W., showing that the vortex had pa.s.sed us, and that the _Alabama_ was at last beaten! The wind being still somewhat fresher than I desired, I hove the ship to, on the port tack, to allow the gale to draw farther ahead of me. After lying to three hours, the barometer continuing to rise, and the wind to moderate, we filled away, and shaking out some of the reefs, continued on our course.

On the 12th of October, we pa.s.sed the remarkable islets of St. Peter and St. Paul, a sort of half-way mile-posts between the Cape of Good Hope and the Strait of Sunda. These islets are the tops of rocky mountains, shooting up from great depths in the sea. They are in the midst of a dreary waste of waters, having no other land within a thousand miles and more, of them. They are composed of solid granite, without vegetation, and inhabited only by the wild birds of the ocean. I cannot imagine a more fitting station for a meteorologist. He would be in the midst of constant tempests, and might study the laws of his science, without interruption from neighboring isle or continent. There being an indifferent anchorage under the lee of St. Paul, we scanned the island narrowly with our gla.s.ses, as we pa.s.sed, not knowing but we might find some adventurous Yankee whaler, or seal-catcher, trying out blubber, or knocking a seal on the head. These islands are frequently sighted by India-bound ships, and it was my intention to cruise a few days in their vicinity, but the bad weather hurried me on.

We took another gale, on the night after leaving them, and had some damage done to our head-rail and one of our quarter-boats. The scene was a sublime one to look upon. The seas--those long swells before described--were literally running mountains high, the wind was howling with more than usual fury, and a dense snow-storm was pelting us from the blackest and most angry-looking of clouds. I was now in longitude 83 E., and bore away more to the northward. Although the thermometer had not settled below 50, we felt the cold quite piercingly--our clothing being constantly saturated with moisture. On the 14th of October, we had the first tolerably fine day we had experienced for the last two weeks, and we availed ourselves of it, to uncover the hatches and ventilate the ship, getting up from below, and airing the damp bedding and mildewed clothing.

The constant straining of the ship, in the numerous gales she had encountered, had opened the seams in her bends, and all our state-rooms were leaking more or less, keeping our beds and clothing damp. On the next day, another gale overtook us, in which we lay to ten hours, to permit it, as we had done the gale we ran the race with, to pa.s.s ahead of us.

And thus it was, that we ran down our easting, in the region of the "brave west winds," with every variety of bad weather, of the description of which, the reader must, by this time, be pretty well tired. On the 17th of October, I was nearly _antipodal_ with my home in Alabama. By the way, has the reader ever remarked that land is scarcely ever antipodal with land?

Let him take a globe, and he will be struck with the fact, that land and water have been almost invariably arranged opposite to each other. May not this arrangement have something to do with the currents, and the water-carriers, the winds?

On the morning of the 21st of October, at about five o'clock, we crossed the tropic of Capricorn, on the 100th meridian of east longitude. We still held on to our west winds, though they had now become light. We took the trade-wind from about S. S. E. almost immediately after crossing the tropic. We thus had the good fortune, a second time, to cross the tropic without finding a calm-belt; the two counter-winds blowing almost side by side with each other. We had been twenty-four days and three quarters from the Cape of Good Hope, and in that time had run, under sail alone--occasionally lying to, in bad weather--4410 miles; the average run, per day, being 178 miles. We had brought the easterly current with us, too, all the way. It had set us twenty miles to the north-east, on the day we reached the tropic. In all this lengthened run, we had sighted only two or three sails. One of these was a steamer, which we overhauled, and boarded, but which proved to be English. For nineteen days we did not see a sail; and still we were on the great highway to India. There must have been numerous travellers on this highway, before and behind us, but each was bowling along at a rapid, and nearly equal pace, before the "brave west winds," enveloped in his own circle, and shut out from the view of his neighbor by the mantle of black rain-clouds in which he was wrapped.

Our mysterious friends, the Cape-pigeons, disappeared, as we approached the tropics.

We now ran rapidly through the south-east trades, with fine weather, until we reached the 12th parallel of south lat.i.tude, when we pa.s.sed suddenly into the monsoon region. The monsoons were undergoing a change. The east monsoon was dying out, and the west monsoon was about to take its place.

The struggle between the outgoing, and the incoming wind would occupy several weeks, and during all this time I might expect sudden shifts and squalls of wind and rain, with densely overcast skies, and much thunder and lightning. My intention was to make for the Strait of Sunda, that well-known pa.s.sage into, and out of the China seas, between the islands of Java and Sumatra, cruise off it some days, and then run into the China seas. On the evening of the 26th we spoke an English bark, just out of the Strait, which informed us that the United States steamer _Wyoming_ was cruising in the Strait, in company with a three-masted schooner, which she had fitted up as a tender, and that she anch.o.r.ed nearly every evening under the island of Krakatoa. Two days afterward, we boarded a Dutch ship, from Batavia to Amsterdam, which informed us, that a boat from the _Wyoming_ had boarded her, off the town of Anger in the Strait. There seemed, therefore, to be little doubt, that if we attempted the Strait, we should find an enemy barring our pa.s.sage.

As we drew near the Strait, we began to fall in with ships in considerable numbers. On the 31st of October, no less than six were cried from aloft, at the same time, all standing to the south-west, showing that they were just out of the famous pa.s.sage. The wind being light and baffling, we got up steam, and chased and boarded four of them--three English, and one Dutch. By this time, the others were out of sight--reported, by those we had overhauled, to be neutral--and the night was setting in dark and rainy. The Dutch ship, like the last one we had boarded, was from Batavia, and corroborated the report of the presence of the _Wyoming_ in these waters. She had left her at Batavia, which is a short distance only from the Strait of Sunda. The weather had now become exceedingly oppressive.

Notwithstanding the almost constant rains, the heat was intense. On the morning of the 6th of November, we boarded an English ship, from Foo Chow for London, which informed us, that an American ship, called the _Winged Racer_, had come out of the Strait, in company with her. In the afternoon, two ships having been cried from aloft, we got up steam, and chased, hoping that one of them might prove to be the American ship reported. They were both English; but whilst we were chasing these two English ships, a third ship hove in sight, farther to windward, to which we gave chase in turn.

This last ship was to be our first prize in East-Indian waters. A gun brought the welcome stars and stripes to her peak, and upon being boarded, she proved to be the bark _Amanda_, of Boston, from Manilla bound to Queenstown for orders. The _Amanda_ was a fine, rakish-looking ship, and had a cargo of hemp, and sugar. She was under charter-party to proceed first to Queenstown, and thence to the United States, for a market, if it should be deemed advisable. On the face of each of the three bills of lading found among her papers, was the following certificate from the British Consul at Manilla:--"I hereby certify that Messrs. Ker & Co., the shippers of the merchandise specified in this bill of lading, are British subjects established in Manilla, and that according to invoices produced, the said merchandise is shipped by order, and for account of Messrs.

Holliday, Fox & Co., British subjects, of London, in Great Britain." As n.o.body swore to anything, before the Consul, his certificate was valueless to protect the property, and the ship and cargo were both condemned. The night set in very dark and squally, whilst we were yet alongside of this ship. We got on board from her some articles of provisions, and some sails and cordage to replace the wear and tear of the late gales we had pa.s.sed through, and made a brilliant bonfire of her at about ten P. M. The conflagration lighted up the sea for many miles around, and threw its grim and ominous glare to the very mouth of the Strait.

The next day we ran in and anch.o.r.ed under Flat Point, on the north side of the Strait, in seventeen fathoms water, about a mile from the coast of Sumatra. My object was to procure some fruits and vegetables for my crew, who had been now a long time on salt diet.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE ALABAMA Pa.s.sES THROUGH THE STRAIT OF SUNDA, SEEING NOTHING OF THE WYOMING--BURNS THE WINGED RACER JUST INSIDE THE STRAIT--THE MALAY BOATMEN AND THEIR ALARM--ALABAMA MAKES FOR THE GASPAR STRAIT, AND BURNS THE CONTEST, AFTER AN EXCITING CHASE--Pa.s.sES THROUGH THE CARIMATA Pa.s.sAGE--DISCHARGES HER PRISONERS INTO AN ENGLISH SHIP--MINIATURE SEA-SERPENTS--THE CURRENTS--PULO CONDORE--ARRIVAL AT SINGAPORE.

Soon after anchoring as described in the last chapter, we had a false alarm. It was reported that a bark some distance off had suddenly taken in all sail, and turned her head in our direction, as though she were a steamer coming in chase. Orders were given to get up steam, to be ready for any emergency, but countermanded in a few minutes, when upon a partial lifting of the rain-clouds, it was ascertained that the strange sail was a merchant-ship and had only taken in her top-gallant sails to a squall, and clewed down her topsails, to reef. She was indeed coming in our direction, but it was only to take shelter for the night. She was a Dutch bark from Batavia, for the west coast of Sumatra.

The next morning, we got under way, at an early hour, to pa.s.s through the Strait of Sunda into the China Sea. We hove up our anchor in the midst of a heavy rain-squall, but the weather cleared as the day advanced, and a fresh and favorable wind soon sprang up. We ran along by Keyser Island, and at half-past ten lowered the propeller and put the ship under steam.

Under both steam and sail we made rapid headway. We pa.s.sed between the high and picturesque islands of Beezee and Soubooko, the channel being only about a mile in width. Groves of cocoanut-trees grew near the beach on the former island, among which were some straw-thatched huts. From these huts, the natives, entirely naked, except a breech-cloth around the loins, flocked out in great numbers to see the ship pa.s.s. Ships do not often take this narrow channel, and the spectacle was, no doubt, novel to them. They made no demonstration, but gazed at us in silence as we flew rapidly past them. We ran through the Strait proper of Sunda, between one and two o'clock in the afternoon, pa.s.sing to the westward of the island called Thwart-the-Way, and close to the Stroom Rock, lying with its blackened and jagged surface but a few feet above the water. This course carried us in full view of the little town and garrison of Anjer, but we saw nothing of the _Wyoming_. We found the Strait of Sunda as unguarded by the enemy, as we had found the other highways of commerce along which we had pa.s.sed.

Just where the Strait debouches into the China Sea, we descried, in the midst of a rain-squall, to which we were both obliged to clew up our top-gallant sails, a tall clipper ship, evidently American. She loomed up through the pa.s.sing shower like a frigate. We at once gave chase, and in a very few minutes hove the stranger to with a gun. It was the _Winged Racer_, which our English friend told us had pa.s.sed out of the Strait some days before in his company. She had lingered behind for some reason, and as a consequence had fallen into the power of her enemy, with no friendly gun from the _Wyoming_ to protect her. The _Winged Racer_ was a perfect beauty--one of those New York ships of superb model, with taunt, graceful masts, and square yards, known as "clippers." She was from Manilla, bound for New York, with a cargo consisting chiefly of sugar, hides, and jute.

There was no claim of neutral property, and condemnation followed the capture as a matter of course. We anch.o.r.ed her near North Island, and came to, ourselves, for the convenience of "robbing" her. She had sundry provisions on board--particularly sugar and coffee--of which we stood in need. She had, besides, a large supply of Manilla tobacco, and my sailors'

pipes were beginning to want replenishing. It took us a greater part of the night--for night had set in by the time the two ships were well anch.o.r.ed--to transport to the _Alabama_ such things as were needed. In the meantime, the master of the captured ship, who had his family on board, requested me to permit him and his crew to depart in his own boats. The portion of the Javan sea in which we were anch.o.r.ed was a mere lake, the waters being shallow, and studded every few miles with islands. He proposed to make his way to Batavia, and report to his Consul for further a.s.sistance. I granted his request, made him a present of all his boats, and told him to pack into them as much plunder as he chose. About one o'clock he was ready, and his little fleet of boats departed. The prisoners from the _Amanda_ took pa.s.sage with him.

Whilst these things were going on, a number of Malay b.u.m-boatmen had collected around us, with their stores of fruits, and vegetables, and live stock. These boatmen, like the Chinese, live on the water, and make a business of supplying ships that pa.s.s through the Strait. The stewards of the different messes had all been busy trading with them, and there was a great squalling of chickens, and squealing of pigs going on. An amusing scene was now to occur. The boatmen had no suspicion that the _Alabama_ had captured the _Winged Racer_, and was about to destroy her. They were lying on their oars, or holding on to lines from the two ships, with the most perfect _insouciance_. Presently a flame leaped up on board the _Winged Racer_, and in a few minutes enveloped her. Terror at once took possession of the Malay boatmen, and such a cutting of lines, and shouting, and vigorous pulling were perhaps never before witnessed in the Strait of Sunda. These boats had informed us that the _Wyoming_ was at Anger only two days before, when they left.

It was now about two o'clock A. M., and the _Alabama_ getting up her anchor, steamed out into the China Sea, by the light of the burning ship.

We had thus lighted a bonfire at either end of the renowned old Strait of Sunda. After having thus advertised our presence in this pa.s.sage, it was useless to remain in it longer. Ships approaching it would take the alarm, and seek some other outlet into the Indian Ocean. Most of the ships coming down the China Sea, with a view of pa.s.sing out at the Strait of Sunda, come through the Gaspar Strait. I resolved now to steam in the direction of this latter strait, and forestall such as might happen to be on their way. By daylight we had steamed the coast of Sumatra and Java out of sight, and soon afterward we made the little island called the North Watcher, looking, indeed, as its name implied, like a lone sentinel posted on the wayside. We had lost the beautiful blue waters of the Indian Ocean, with its almost unfathomable depths, and entered upon a sea whose waters were of a whitish green, with an average depth of no more than about twenty fathoms. Finding that I should be up with Gaspar Strait, sometime during the night, if I continued under steam, and preferring to delay my arrival until daylight the next morning, I let my steam go down, and put my ship under sail, to take it more leisurely.

We were about to lift the propeller out of the water, when the cry of "sail ho!" came from the vigilant look-out at the mast-head. We at once discontinued the operation, not knowing but we might have occasion to use steam. As the stranger was standing in our direction, we soon raised her from the deck, and as my gla.s.s developed, first one, and then another of her features, it was evident that here was another clipper-ship at hand.

She had the well-known tall, raking masts, square yards, and white canvas.

She was on a wind, with everything set, from courses to skysails, and was ploughing her way through the gently ruffled sea, with the rapidity, and at the same time, the grace of the swan. We made her a point or two on our lee bow, and not to excite her suspicion we kept away for her, so gradually, that she could scarcely perceive the alteration in our course.

We hoisted at the same time the United States colors. When we were within about four miles of the chase, she responded by showing us the same colors. Feeling now quite sure of her, we fired a gun, hauled down the enemy's flag, and threw our own to the breeze. (We were now wearing that splendid white flag, with its cross and stars, which was so great an improvement upon the old one.) So far from obeying the command of our gun, the gallant ship kept off a point or two--probably her best point of sailing--gave herself top-gallant and topmast studding-sails, and away she went!

I had been a little premature in my eagerness to clutch so beautiful a prize. She was not as yet under my guns, and it was soon evident that she would give me trouble before I could overhaul her. The breeze was tolerably fresh, but not stiff. We made sail at once in chase. Our steam had been permitted to go down, as the reader has seen; and as yet we had not much more than enough to turn over the propeller. The chase was evidently gaining on us. It was some fifteen or twenty minutes before the engineer had a head of steam on. We now gave the ship all steam, and trimmed the sails to the best possible advantage. Still the fugitive ship retained her distance from us, if she did not increase it. It was the first time the _Alabama_ had appeared dull. She was under both sail and steam, and yet here was a ship threatening to run away from her. She must surely be out of trim. I tried, therefore, the effect of getting my crew aft on the quarter-deck, and shifting aft some of the forward guns. This helped us visibly, and the ship sprang forward with increased speed. We were now at least holding our own, but it was impossible to say, as yet, whether we were gaining an inch. If the breeze had freshened, the chase would have run away from us beyond all question. I watched the signs of the weather anxiously. It was between nine and ten o'clock A. M.

Fortunately, as the sun gained power, and drove away the mists of the morning, the breeze began to decline! Now came the triumph of steam. When we had come within long range, I threw the spray over the quarter-deck of the chase, with a rifle-shot from my bow-chaser. Still she kept on, and it was not until all hope was evidently lost, that the proud clipper-ship, which had been beaten rather by the failure of the wind, than the speed of the _Alabama_, shortened sail and hove to.

When the captain was brought on board, I congratulated him on the skilful handling of his ship, and expressed my admiration of her fine qualities.

He told me that she was one of the most famous clipper-ships out of New York. She was the _Contest_, from Yokohama, in j.a.pan, bound to New York.

She was light, and in fine sailing trim, having only a partial cargo on board. There being no attempt to cover the cargo, consisting mostly of light j.a.panese goods, lacker-ware, and curiosities, I condemned both ship and cargo. I was sorry to be obliged to burn this beautiful ship, and regretted much that I had not an armament for her, that I might commission her as a cruiser. Both ships now anch.o.r.ed in the open sea, with no land visible, in fourteen fathoms of water, whilst the crew was being removed from the prize, and the necessary preparations made for burning her. It was after nightfall before these were all completed, and the torch applied. We hove up our anchor, and made sail by the light of the burning ship. Having now burned a ship off Gaspar Strait, I turned my ship's head to the eastward, with the intention of taking the Carimata Strait.

My coal was running so short, by this time, that I was obliged to dispense with the use of steam, except on emergencies, and work my way from point to point wholly under sail. Fortune favored me however, for I pa.s.sed through the Carimata Strait in the short s.p.a.ce of five days against the north-west monsoon, which was a head-wind. Ships have been known to be thirty days making this pa.s.sage. I generally anch.o.r.ed at night, on account of the currents, and the exceeding difficulty of the navigation--shoals besetting the navigator on every hand in this shallow sea. We began now to fall in with some of the curiosities of the China Sea. Salt-water serpents made their appearance, playing around the ship, and cutting up their antics. These snakes are from three to five feet long, and when ships anchor at night, have been known to crawl up the cables, and make their way on deck through the hawse-holes, greatly to the annoyance of the sailors who chance to be sleeping on deck. They are not known to be poisonous. Never having been in the China seas before, I was quite amused at the gambols of these miniature sea-serpents. Seeing an old sailor stopping up the hawse-holes, with swabs, one evening after we had anch.o.r.ed, I asked him what he was about. "I'm stopping out the snakes, y'r honor," he replied. "What," said I, "do they come on deck?" "Oh! yes, y'r honor; when I was in the ship _Flying Cloud_, we killed forty of them on deck in one morning watch."

Naked Malays frequently paddled off to us, when we anch.o.r.ed near their villages, with fowls, and eggs, and fruits, and vegetables, which they desired to exchange for rice and ship-bread. In frail piraguas, these amphibious bipeds will make long voyages from island to island. They seem to be a sort of wandering Arabs of the sea, and, as a rule, are a great set of villains, not hesitating to take a hand at piracy when opportunity offers. So intricate are some of the archipelagos which they inhabit, that it is next to impossible to track them to their hiding-places. These nomads, upon whom no civilization seems to make any impression, will probably long remain the pests of the China seas, in spite of the steamship.

Emerging from the Carimata pa.s.sage, we stood over to the west end of the island of Souriton, where we anch.o.r.ed at four P. M., on the 18th of November. Here we lay several days, and for the convenience of overhauling pa.s.sing ships, without the necessity of getting under way, we hoisted out, and rigged our launch, a fine cutter-built boat, and provisioning and watering her for a couple of days at a time, sent her out cruising; directing her, however, to keep herself within sight of the ship. A number of sails were overhauled, but they all proved to be neutral--mostly English and Dutch. I was much struck with the progress the Dutch were making in these seas. Holland, having sunk to a fourth or fifth rate power in Europe, is building up quite an empire in the East. The island of Java is a little kingdom in itself, and the boers, with the aid of the natives, whom they seem to govern with great success are fast bringing its fertile lands into cultivation. Batavia, Sourabia, and other towns are rising rapidly into importance. The Dutch are overrunning the fine island of Sumatra, too. They have established military stations over the greater part of it, and are gradually bringing the native chiefs under subjection.

They occupy the spice islands, and are extending their dominion thence to the northward. In short, Great Britain must look to her laurels in the China seas, if she would not divide them with Holland.

In the meantime, the inquiry naturally presents itself, Where is the Yankee? that he is permitting all this rich harvest of colonization and trade in the East to pa.s.s away from him. It was at one time thought that he would contest the palm of enterprise with England herself, but this dream has long since been dispelled. Even before the war, his trade began to dwindle. During the war it went down to zero, and since the war it has not revived. Is he too busy with his internal dissensions and politics? Is the miserable faction which has ruled the country for the last seven years determined to destroy all its prosperity, foreign as well as domestic?

While lying at Souriton, we boarded the British ship _Avalanche_, two days from Singapore, with newspapers from America just forty days old! Here was a proof of the British enterprise of which we have just been speaking. The Atlantic, the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and a part of the China Sea, are traversed by British steam and sail, and the _Alabama_ shakes out the folds of a newspaper from the land of her enemy, at an out-of-the-way island in the China Sea, just forty days old! The _Avalanche_ kindly consenting, we sent by her our prisoners to Batavia. We now got under way, and stood over to the west coast of Borneo, where we cruised for a few days, working our way gradually to the northward; it being my intention as soon as I should take the north-east monsoon, which prevails at this season in the China Sea, to the northward of the equator, to stretch over to the coast of Cochin China, and hold myself for a short time in the track of the ships coming down from Canton and Shanghai. I was greatly tempted as I pa.s.sed Sarawak, in the island of Borneo, to run in and visit my friend Rajah Brooke, whose career in the East has been so remarkable a one. Cruising in these seas, years ago, when he was a young man, in his own yacht, a jaunty little armed schooner of about 200 tons, he happened in at Sarawak. The natives, taking a fancy to him and his tiny man-of-war, insisted upon electing him their Rajah, or Governor. He a.s.sented, got a foothold in the island, grew in favor, increased his dominions, and was, at the period of our visit to the coast, one of the most powerful Rajahs in Borneo. Since my return from the China seas, the Rajah has died, full of years and full of honors, bequeathing his government to a blood relation. It would be difficult for even a Yankee to beat that!

Upon reaching this coast, we struck a remarkable northerly current. It ran at the rate of two knots per hour, its general set being about north-east.

The weather falling calm, we were several days within its influence. When it had drifted us as far to the northward as I desired to go, I was obliged to let go a kedge in fifty fathoms water to prevent further drift.

The current now swept by us at so rapid a rate, that we were compelled to lash two deep sea leads together, each weighing forty-five pounds, to keep our drift-lead on the bottom. Here was another of those elliptical currents spoken of a few pages back. If the reader will look at a map of the China Sea, he will observe that the north-east monsoon, as it comes sweeping down that sea, in the winter months, blows parallel with the coasts of China and Cochin China. This wind drives a current before it to the south-west. This current, as it strikes the peninsula of Malacca, is deflected to the eastward toward the coast of Sumatra. Impinging upon this coast, it is again deflected and driven off in the direction of the island of Borneo. This island in turn gives it a northern direction, and the consequence is, that the south-westerly current which came sweeping down the western side of the China Sea, is now going up on the eastern side of the same sea, as a north-easterly current. We lay five days at our kedge, during a calm that lasted all that time. The monsoons were changing; the west monsoon was setting in in the East Indian archipelago, and the north-eastern monsoon in the China Sea. Hence the calms, and rains, and sudden gusts of wind, now from one quarter, and now from another, which we had experienced. At the end of these five days of calm, we took the north-east monsoon, from about N. N. E., and, getting up our kedge, we made our way over to the coast of Cochin China, in accordance with the intention already expressed.

There is no navigation, perhaps, in the world, so trying to the vigilance and nerves of the mariner as that of the China seas. It is a coral sea, and filled with dangers in almost every direction, especially in its eastern portion, from the Philippine Islands down to the Strait of Sunda.

The industrious little stone-mason, which we have before so often referred to, has laid the foundation of a new empire, at the bottom of the China Sea, and is fast making his way to the surface. He has already dotted the sea with ten thousand islands, in its eastern portion, and is silently and mysteriously piling up his tiny blocks of stone, one upon another, in the central and western portions. He is working very irregularly, having large gangs of hands employed here, and very few there, and is running up his structures in very fantastic shapes, some in solid blocks, with even surfaces, some as pyramids, and some as cones. The tops of the pyramids and cones are sometimes as sharp as needles, and pierce a ship's bottom as readily as a needle would a lady's finger. It is impossible to survey such a sea with accuracy. A surveying vessel might drop a lead on almost every square foot of bottom, and yet miss some of these mere needle-points. A ship, with the best of modern charts, may be threading this labyrinth, as she thinks, quite securely, and suddenly find herself impaled upon one of these dangers.

To add to the perplexity of the navigator, days sometimes elapse, especially when the monsoons are changing, during which it is impossible to get an observation for fixing the position of his ship; and during these days of incessant darkness, and drenching rains, he is hurried about by currents, he knows not whither. And then, perhaps, the typhoon comes along--that terrible cyclone of the China seas--at the very moment, it may be, when he is, by reason of the causes mentioned, uncertain of his position, and compels him to scud his ship at hazard, among shoals and breakers! I lost many nights of rest when in these seas, and felt much relieved when the time came for me to turn my back upon them. The wind freshened as we drew out from the coast of Borneo, and by the time we had reached the track of the westward-bound ships, we found the monsoon blowing a whole topsail-breeze. We struck, at the same time, the south-westerly current described, and what with the wind and the current, we found it as much as we could do to hold our own, and prevent ourselves from being drifted to leeward. It soon became apparent that it would be useless to attempt operations here, unless a.s.sisted by steam. Every chase would probably carry us miles to leeward, whence it would be impossible, under sail alone, to regain our position. Still, we held ourselves a day or two in the track, in accordance with my previous determination, overhauling several ships, none of which, however, proved to be enemy.

At the end of this short cruise, we made sail for the island of Condore, or, as it is called on the charts of the China Sea, Pulo Condore, the word "pulo" being the Chinese term for island. My intention was to run into this small island, which has a snug harbor, sheltered from the monsoon, do some necessary repairs with my own mechanics, refit and repaint, and then run down to Singapore, and fill up with coal. My future course would be guided by contingencies. We made Pulo Condore early in the afternoon of the second of December, and pa.s.sing to the northward of the "White Rock,"

bore up, and ran along the western side of the island until nightfall, when we anch.o.r.ed under the lee of a small, rocky island, near the mouth of the harbor. The scenery was bold, picturesque, and impressive. All was novelty; the shallow sea, the whistling monsoon, and the little islands rising so abruptly from the sea, that a goat could scarcely clamber up their sides. The richest vegetation covered these islands from the sea-level to their summits. Occasionally a break or gap in the mountain--for Pulo Condore rises to the height of a mountain--disclosed charming ravines, opening out into luxuriant plains, where were grazing the wild cattle of the country--the bison, or small-humped buffalo of the East.

At daylight the next morning, upon looking into the harbor with our gla.s.ses, we were surprised to see a small vessel at anchor, wearing the French flag; and pretty soon afterward we were boarded by a French boat; Pulo Condore--lying off the coast of Cochin China--having recently become a French colony. The island had been taken possession of by France two years before. The vessel was a ship of war, keeping watch and ward over the lonely waters. This was a surprise. I had expected to find the island in the hands of the Malay nomads who infest these seas, and to have converted it into Confederate territory, as I had done Angra Pequena, on the west coast of Africa--at least during my stay. And so when I had invited the French officer, who was himself the commander of the little craft, into my cabin, I remarked to him, "You have spoiled a pet project of mine." "How so?" said he. I then explained to him how, in imitation of my friend Brooke, I had intended to play Rajah for a few weeks, in Pulo Condore. He laughed heartily, and said, "_Sera tout le meme chose, Monsieur. Vous portez plus de cannons que moi, et vous serez Rajah, pendant votre sejour_." I did carry a few more guns than my French friend, for his little man-of-war was only a craft of the country, of less than a hundred tons burden, armed with one small carronade. His crew consisted of about twenty men.