We are having quite a cold spell of weather with a bitter wind. After school I went down to the seashore to take some photographs, as there was a fine sea with rather grand effects.
Graham went for a walk on the shore this afternoon, taking little Jock, who unfortunately picked up a stinging fish; Graham got it from him, but was too late to prevent its stinging him. He gave little squeals, and finally fell down as if dead. Graham picked him up and made for home. On the top of the cliff he stopped to rest, where, upon being put down Jock opened his eyes, when Graham rubbed him, and before long he came round and seemed quite himself again.
_Saturday, August 24_.--This has been an exciting day. I was baking bread when there came a quick tap at the passage window. Mrs. Bob Green had run down to tell us there was a steamer to the west. I at once got out the letters, added hasty post-scripts and dated them. Graham soon came hurrying in and also began to write. He made up his mind to go as the sea was very smooth. Two boats put off. From the higher ground we could see the steamer, which was coming along very slowly. The boats had a good long wait for it. When it came up our men were allowed on board and stayed for about an hour. It was making its first voyage and was bound for Bombay, but was calling at Durban. We, therefore, hope our letters will reach England the first week in October. Graham said the Peak, seen from the water, was covered with snow. The thermometer lately has now and again been as low as 44 degrees.
We find we are sixty-five minutes behind time. The people had told us our clocks were slow. The Hagans have on their doorstep a sun-mark cut by a shipwrecked captain, from which they can tell the time. Only a few families own clocks.
_Monday, August 26_.--Poor little Jock is no more. He did not turn up for his breakfast, but I thought perhaps he was having a game with John Glass's puppy. When we came back from morning service I went in search of him but could not find him. Just before lunch Susan Repetto ran in to tell us as she was driving the geese across the Big Watering she had found him lying dead in the water. We went to look, and there a little way up the stream, was poor little Jock. He had no doubt had a fit and rolled down the bank.