After such an unusual excitement on board, it seemed a relief to have the ship to ourselves again, for the natives had crowded in whilst we were in harbour, and to go down immediately to dinner as usual.
_Sunday, September 6th._--There was a parade of all the officers and crew on deck at 10 a.m., the sailors in their clean white suits, and the officers in blue frock coats; after which we had morning service, the captain reading the prayers, and the doctor the lessons.
We were able to see the Southern Cross for the first time, with the tail of the Great Bear above the horizon. The stars have been very beautiful on some of these still clear nights, but we have lost the moon that we had at first.
_Thursday, September 12th._--A man in the steerage died yesterday afternoon of acute rheumatism, aggravated by the damp of the trade winds during the last few days. He suffered terribly.
I awoke with the tolling of the bell at seven this morning. The body, sewn up in canvas, and covered with a Union Jack, lay on the deck, and in the grey of the early dawn a reverend little crowd was collected round it; the captain, in the centre, reading the service, and the officers and a few of the passengers standing round. At the words, "We therefore commit his body to the deep," the sailors, in their white Sunday suits, lifted the heavily-weighted plank on which the body lay, and it slid over the side of the ship, falling with a dull thud and splash into the waters.
_Friday, September 13th._--All this time we have been in the Tropic of Cancer, and now that we are going through that much-dreaded three or four days of crossing the Equator, we learn that it is not absolutely necessary to suffer so terribly from the heat. Our deck-cabins being on the port side, we have always had a pleasant breeze flowing in, night and day. Having accomplished that great feat of the traveller, "the crossing of the line," we can never again be troubled with any nonsense about "Neptune coming on board." We are now entering the Tropic of Capricorn.
There is a sound on board ship which it is always pleasant to hear,--the bell tolling the hour of the "watches." The day is divided into three watches of four hours each. The last watch of from 4 to 8 p.m. is divided into two, and is called the dog watch; it prevents the necessity of one officer always coming on duty at the same hour every day.