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piercing eye, except that occasionally his head turns slightly, and betrays a sharp, prying expression, that somewhat shakes your belief in the lordly indifference he would fain assume; and if you fling overboard a piece of rusty pork, the disenchantment is complete, and you see that long curiously-crooked beak exercising its enormous strength in an employment so spectral a personage could scarcely be suspected of indulging. There is another kind of albatross, nearly as large as the "great” one, with a small portion of black on its wings, that appears exactly similar in habits to its more renowned relative; but these pied

ones are more numerous.

Another kind, that the sailors called "Nelly" (Diomedia fuliginosa?), of a dusky, smoky hue, was very abundant, and, I am sorry to say, very frequently destroyed, although, by the great thickness of the plumage or some other protecting cause, their lives were often most strangely preserved. After falling plump into the water, to all appearance shot dead, many would float away a short distance, and then, turning over to their proper position, perting up the head, and giving their wings an experimental flutter, as if to ascertain that no damage was done, away they flew unharmed, greatly to my delight and the confusion of their enemies. These surprising resuscitations gained for them with us the name of " immortals."

All the various species of albatross have the same kind of expressive eye I mentioned in describing the Cape pigeon; a gentle, yet withal shrewd glance, and in some a few darker feathers round the eye, add to the soft expression, just as long dark eyelashes do in a human face.

What the flying-fish is, compared with the porpoise, such is the light, swift little petrel beside the slow, solemn albatross. Glancing, dipping, skimming about, or running along the water with half-spread wings, they are all life and activity:

"Up and down, up and down,

" From the base of the waves to the billow's crown;"

they appear mere happy little birds; whilst those awful, funereal creatures give one the idea of unhappy disembodied spirits, condemned to sail about these inhospitable seas till their penance is done.

There are two species of petrel in the vicinity of the Cape: one,

the common kind, is nearly black, and, I believe, is the same which frequents the northern British islands; the other, far more beautiful, is a very delicate blue, and more slight in form than the dark one. The two kinds keep in separate flocks, and I could only obtain a good view of the blue ones with a glass, as they are very shy, and never ventured near the ship-a very wise precaution.

Nothing comes amiss to sailors in the way of eatables; nor, when we consider the wretched fare on which they usually subsist in merchant vessels, can their ready adoption of anything that promises a variety create surprise. The rank, oily, disgustingly high-scented sea-birds that were caught by the passengers, were all begged and eaten by the crew. One day a very large gull or albatross was handed over to them, and duly demolished; and on some one's inquiring how it tasted, a steerage passenger very gravely declared it to be " very like partridge!" When the bird came on deck, quantities of pure oil poured from its beak, and then to hear of its eating "like partridge!"

Very soon after passing the Cape, wet, cold, stormy weather set in, and banished me from my accustomed place on deck to my cabin, where, with dead-lights securely stopping the stern-windows and the skylight closely shut, I slept away as much of the weary day as I could, and sat shivering in cloaks and furs the remainder, for there was not a stove on board. That was a weary time; tremendous gales blowing, seas being constantly shipped, and streaming into the mess-cabin, though rarely into ours; the galley-fire continually being put out; and, worst of all, the ship rolling and pitching so violently that one would think each plunge must be her last. Often in the night, when the roaring din around drove away all chance of sleep, I have had a light struck to lie awake by, the darkness seemed so terrible amid those horrid noises. The howling and screaming of the wind, the roaring and dashing water sounding close in one's ears, and every part of the vessel complaining, in its own particular tone of creaking, cracking, or groaning, made up such a frightful uproar, that it seemed sometimes as if a whole legion of fiends were aboard.

Frequent terrific crashes among the crockery and glass ware produced crashes of words, not "writ in choice Italian," but spoken in a rough and wrathful tone, from captain and steward; the result being a sad diminution of cups and wine-glasses. Such was our dilapidated condition, that two or three old powdercanisters and preserve-jars formed the entire drinking equipage of the cabin table, when the last wine-glass, long the innocent cause of direst jealousy, was lamentably broken. Being rich in the possession of two small white respectable-looking marmalade jars, we took especial care of our valuable "breakfast service," and, until one of our treasures went to pieces in a squall, were the envy of our less fortunate fellow-voyagers; but this general poverty in conveniences was productive of so much merriment, that I doubt if the finest services of china and cut-glass would have served half as well to while away the slowly passing time. A little wit, as of any other good thing, must go a great way at sea, where any change of the too-often grumbling tone of conversation is acceptable.

It is very common for people to talk and write of waves running "mountains high," but I confess I always used to make a very liberal allowance for exaggeration and imagery in these cases; and I well remember once joining in the laugh of incredulity, when a gentleman told myself and other young people that he had seen waves of which two would fill the breadth of the Menai Strait, where we then were. I had not then been a long voyage myself; I had not looked and trembled at the scene I witnessed one Sunday morning after a two days' gale, during which I had remained below. The wind had abated considerably, but we could only carry a close-reefed mainsail, and were "scudding" along. Any attempt to describe the vast, awful grandeur of the scene seems absurd-it is so impossible for anything but the eye itself to represent it to the mind; I feel dizzy with the mere remembrance.

When I came on deck, the ship lay as in an immense valley of waters, with huge waves, mountain waves, indeed (one of which would have flooded both shores of the Menai), circling us all around: then slowly we seemed to climb the ascent, and, poised on the summit of the rolling height, could look along the dark and dreary waste of ocean heaving with giant billows far and wide ; then, plunging down into the next frightful abyss, the labouring vessel seemed doomed; -I fancied already the rush of water in

my ears, when, with a violent pitch and shudder, the ship bounded along again, over another mountain, and down another valley, in long and slow succession again and again, till I grew accustomed to the scene, and could gaze without thinking I looked upon our vast and miserable grave.

There were the ghost-like albatrosses sailing solemnly above the tops of the towering billows, or diving beside us into the yawning gulf, sailing about with the same unruffled plumes, the same quiet, wary eye, and majestic demeanour, that they wore in the brightest calm. Who could doubt their supernatural attributes? Certainly not a spirit-chilled landswoman, with Coleridge's magic legend perpetually repeating itself to her. I wish some of its good and beautiful lines were as familiar and impressive in the minds and thoughts of others as they are in mine :

"Farewell, farewell-but this I tell
To thee, thou wedding guest!
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things, both great and small;
For the dear God, who loveth us,
He made and loveth all."

CHAPTER V.

Island of St. Paul's-Islands in Bass's Straits-Mutton-birds-Botany Bay Heads-General Excitement-Heads of Port Jackson-Scenery-New Zealanders-First sight of Sydney-Pull ashore-Comforts of Land LifeGeorge Street, Sydney-The Domain-Eucalyptus, &c. - WooloomoolooGovernment Gardens.

A VIEW of the little volcanic island of St. Paul's was the only thing that served to vary the tedium of our stormy passage across the Indian Ocean; and our view being rather a distant one, the only benefit we derived from it was the introduction of a new topic of conversation. I believe excellent fish are very abundant there; and, as the story goes, you may stand and pull your dinner out of the cold salt-water with one hand, and drop it into a hot fresh spring to cook with the other! I know not if the renowned Baron Munchausen ever visited St. Paul's, but this savours something of his quality. A few wild pigs are there now likewise ; but the island is a mere volcanic rock, or rather the crater of an extinct volcano, with no trees or bushes, and but very scanty vegetation of any kind. The hot springs show that volcanic agency is still busy there.

Violent gales, cold and rainy weather, were long our portion, but a favourable change occurred in time to decide our route to be through Bass's Straits, which would not have been prudent in the more boisterous weather; and the longer passage round Van Diemen's Land seemed an intolerable prolongation of our most irksome captivity.

Never shall I forget the feeling of intense pleasure with which I greeted the sight of land again, as we passed among the numerous islands in the Straits. Bare, barren as they were, I thought them lovely as the Elysian fields, for they were land, solid, firm, dry land. How we leaned over the vessel's side, smelling the shore! enjoying the fine earthy, fragrant smell that our seaseasoned noses were so quick to detect in every puff of wind that

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