FROM SINGAPORE TO NAGASAKI
July 18th.—To-day we returned to our ship. A Portuguese cruiser, which
had just arrived at Singapore, has sent out one of her officers to
salute my husband on board. I sat on deck and looked about me. A troop
of jugglers, who begged leave to give a performance, swallowed swords,
transformed sand into rice, and showed us how a tree may spring up from
seed they had just sown. They produced a paper from their pockets,
filled with earth, which they strew out into a pot, and when it was
full, they set a seed in it and covered it over with a handkerchief. We
saw a movement beneath that handkerchief, it fluttered, and was lifted
higher and higher. Finally the magicians whisked it off, and there was a
shrub, leaf and stem—all complete. This was really marvellous! A little
Hindoo girl, aged five, performed the _Danse du ventre_, after which
she settled herself on the knees of our Portuguese guest, and pulled
very unceremoniously at his moustache, demanding “baksheesh.” Around
us glided, backwards and forwards, small boats filled with half-naked
natives, who dived into the water for coins, and came on the surface
smiling, with cheeks puffed up like a well-filled purse.
July 19th, 20th.—Great was the desire of all the passengers to visit the
celebrated cigar-manufactory of Manilla, but our captain opposed our
landing on the Philippine Islands, because cholera had broken out in the
town, and thus Manilla was black-balled.
July 21st.—We are in the sphere of a cyclone, and battle with the swell
of the ocean. We mount, descend, and roll from right to left. Enormous
billows throw clouds of foam as high as a mountain on the deck, and two
liquid walls meet to swallow us up. A terrible gust of wind tore the
great sail, shredding it to pieces, and its tatters floated like old
banners on the top of the mast. I passed the night on the floor in the
corridor, and woke up after three hours of poor sleep, feeling something
tickling my nose. It was the tail of a rat the size of a kitten, which
was promenading over my face.
July 22nd.—Daybreak came at last to put an end to my torments. The
tempest began to abate. To-day is the namesday of our Empress Dowager,
and the boat has assumed a holiday aspect. At dinner Sergy regaled us
with champagne, and offered up libations to the recruits and the crew. He
raised his glass to the health of Her Majesty; the sailors shouted loud
hurrahs and got up a dance on the deck.
July 23rd.—Early in the morning we perceived in the distance the coasts
of Formosa. We have to go to-day through dangerous parts filled with
coral banks, and sadly famed for numerous shipwrecks.
July 24th, 25th.—The weather is very fine, the sea—a polished mirror. A
favourable wind sends us forward, all the sails are up, and the _Orel_ is
running at the rate of fifteen miles an hour.