from the finny tribe proper. They bring forth living young, they breathe atmospheric air through their lungs, in place of water through the gills, having a double heart and warm blood, like land animals. Their blow-holes on the top of the head answer to the nostrils of terrestrial animals. Many of these simple facts were quite new to some of our intelligent companions.

Flying-fish were frequently seen, queer little creatures with the nature of a fish and the ambition of a bird. Dolphins sometimes played round the ship for hours together, and a few hideous man-eating sharks kept in our wake day after day, as if they hoped for a stray victim to tumble from the decks and appease their cannibal appetites. The sea-gulls, already mentioned, with tireless pinions followed the ship thousands of miles to pick up the refuse from the cook's galley,—the mystery being how they could sustain such continuous flight, for though they were seen to light upon the water it was but for a moment, and they did not fail to keep up with the Belgic in her steady headway. Save the objects named there was nothing to engage the eye except the endless expanse of waters, which seemed to typify infinite space. Our course did not lie in the track of commerce, nor did we sight ship or land from the hour we sank the shores of America until just three weeks later, when the picturesque coast-line of Japan appeared upon the horizon. It was a voyage of storms and calms combined, sometimes the ocean for days being like a small inland lake, and then again in its rage tossing our ship about as though she were a mere fishing skiff,—the waves often making a clean breach over the hull, thoroughly drenching everything and everybody who happened to be on deck.

Persons who have only witnessed a storm in narrow seas, or near the coast, would be surprised to realize the difference in the waves on the broad Pacific. The short, chopping sea is changed into long, heavy swells, covering the expanse of waters with vast parallels separated by deep valleys, the distance from crest to crest being from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, when a heavy gale prevails. The height of the waves is measured from the trough to the crest, and is of course conjecture, but in a continuous storm which we realized on board the Belgic was certainly some thirty feet. One aspect was to us an unsolved problem: the storm being on our starboard quarter was so nearly aft as to give us some idea of the velocity of the waves, which was clearly much greater than that of the ship's progress, and yet they increased the speed of the Belgic scarcely at all. That is to say, these waves exercised little if any propelling force, but seemed to pass under our keel, causing the hull to pitch and roll so that it was quite impossible to stand without holding on to some substantial fixture. Old George Herbert, in his quaint way, advises people to praise the sea, but to keep on dry land.

Life on shipboard, as has been intimated, becomes a little trying after a week or ten days' experience. Tedium and monotony have a tendency to bring out the less amiable characteristics of passengers who are thus crowded together under peculiar circumstances. Even the most equable disposition is liable sometimes to exhibit weakness. Where there are many passengers thorough agreement becomes hardly possible. Hasty confidences and abrupt prejudices are both the outgrowth of such enforced association. Reading is a great and intelligent resort at sea, but do not let the student flatter himself that he will find time and opportunity for study. Sea-life is antagonistic to such an idea, and the best resolves in that direction will end in idleness and disappointment.

The crew, the waiters, and the cooks of the Belgic were all Chinamen, and it must be admitted that in each capacity the service rendered was excellent. It seems to be generally acknowledged that when a Chinaman knows what is required of him, he will faithfully perform the duty, and, entirely unlike most employees, does not need the watchful eye of a master constantly over him. The ship was well officered by Englishmen, was scrupulously neat and clean; there was no loud talk or reiterated orders in its management; the effective arm of discipline was felt but not seen. To observe the Chinese passengers was a source of some amusement. In fine weather they crowded the forward and lower deck aft, not being permitted to infringe upon the cabin-passengers' deck. They squatted in picturesque groups round the hatchways much of the time, playing cards and dominoes for very small stakes of money. John is by nature a gambler, and cannot resist its fascination. The dull noxious smell that permeated their quarters at all times, in spite of enforced ventilation and the well-observed rules of the ship, was often wafted unpleasantly towards our cabins and deck, telling a significant story of the opium-pipe, and a certain uncleanliness of person peculiar to Africans and Mongolians. When the sea became rough and the ship labored with the storm, a visible anxiety was depicted on the Mongol faces as they gathered in groups and gave up all attempts at amusement. On such occasions they prepared pieces of joss-paper, bearing some Chinese characters, and cast them overboard to appease the presumed anger of the special gods who control the sea.

As we were losing one hour in each fifteen degrees of our course, or, to state it perhaps more clearly, in each thousand miles of progress westward, when half round the world from Greenwich twelve hours would be lost. It is therefore customary to drop a day in mid-ocean, which we did on crossing the hundred and eightieth degree of longitude west and east of Greenwich. When the traveler shall have reached Greenwich again on this course, the remaining twelve hours will be exhausted, and his time will agree with that of the starting-point. During the voyage two of the Chinese passengers died, and were embalmed by the surgeon of the ship. It is a conviction of these people that their soul cannot rest in peace unless their ashes be buried in their native land. When a Chinaman dies in a foreign country, sooner or later his remains are carried home for interment. If only the bones are left, they are finally dug up and thus disposed of by surviving friends. This sort of cargo has formed no small source of profit to ships sailing west from San Francisco, bones and bodies being shipped like merchandise.

As we crept slowly at half speed into the harbor of Yokohama, among the merchant shipping, surrounded by a myriad of little shore-boats, steering in and out through the Russian, English, and Japanese men-of-war, the twilight was gradually approaching; and when we rounded to, three hundred yards from the shore, under the lee of the United States sloop-of-war Richmond and let go our anchor, she fired her evening gun. At the same moment her band, in recognition of the flag that floated from our topmast head, as we carried the American mail, poured forth the strains of the "Star-Spangled Banner" with a thrilling spirit which caused a quick and hearty cheer fore and aft the Belgic. Perhaps it is necessary for one to be thousands of miles from home, and to have just arrived in a foreign port from a long sea voyage, to fully appreciate this little incident.

CHAPTER II.

Landing in Japan.—Characteristic Street Scenes.—Native Bazars.—Women of Yokohama.—Excursion into the Country.—Visit to Kamakura.—Peculiar Scenes on the Road.—A Wonderful Bronze Statue.—Popular Religions of the Country.—The Hakone Pass.—A Youthful Mother.—Native Jugglers.—Temple of Shiba.—Review of the Soldiery.—Ludicrous Sights.—A Native Fair at Tokio.—A Poor