I LEAVE NEW YORK FOR AFRICA—NARROW QUARTERS ON THE SCHOONER—OUR CARGO—OUT OF SIGHT OF LAND—THE SEA AND ALL THAT THEREIN IS—A STORM BREWING.

One summer morning I found myself on board a small schooner lying at anchor in the beautiful bay of New York. This little vessel, though so small, was large enough to sail safely across the Atlantic to the west coast of Africa, to which part of the world we were bound.

On account of the small size of the schooner, the accommodations on board were not very comfortable. The tiny cabin had three narrow bunks—one for the captain, another for the mate, the third for myself. A little cupboard, containing the plates, glasses, forks, spoons, knives, etc., secured against the rolling of the ship, was near one of the bunks.

A small table upon which our meals were served stood in the centre, and was the only piece of furniture we had, for box-like benches along the bunks were our seats, and these were also used as places of storage for different things that had to be handy. Besides these there was a medicine chest.

The only place where one could stand upright was under the skylight. Our toilet or the washing of our faces and hands took place on deck, and when it was raining or stormy the tin wash-basin had to be used in the cabin, though we tried to avoid this as much as possible, it made such a mess.

The forecastle had accommodation for the crew of four sailors and the cook—the latter being also the steward, and having therefore to set the table, serve the meals, wash the dishes, towels, and napkins, and attend to our bunks.

On the deck stood the galley or kitchen, close by, a large cask containing fresh water, with a dipper. Some other casks were safely stored in the hold. These contained water, to us more precious than gold, for what would gold have availed us if we had had no water to drink?

Our cargo was composed of many things, such as brass kettles, guns, small kegs of powder, brass rods, looking-glasses, files, knives, plates, and a great number of beads of all sizes and colors, bright colored cotton umbrellas, coats of gaudy hues, each coat having sleeves and backs of different tints, brilliant colored waistcoats and many other objects. All these were to buy for me the right of way with the African kings, or to give away to the natives, or pay for food or pay my porters.

When the tide served for our departure the captain gave the order to unfurl the sails and raise the anchor. Our ship then glided out into the bay, passed through the Narrows and breasted the broad Atlantic. When we began to lose sight of land, strange sensations crept over me. Before me was the bright future, the great African forest with its tribes of wild men, strange beasts, birds, and insects. Looming above these was the wonderful unknown, so fascinating to me and to all men, especially to lads. Behind me were those I had left, who were dear to me, and to them I whispered a silent farewell, telling them that I would continue to love them and that I would never forget them. That evening with conflicting emotions, and a sad heart I fell asleep.

The following morning when I came on deck there was no land to be seen. The sea with its apparently boundless horizon surrounded our little ship. Long heaving swells rose one after another, and with great wonder my eyes followed them until they faded away in the distance. It seemed as if some great unseen giant were asleep at the bottom of the sea, and that his breathing caused this up-heaving of the ocean into these long swells.

Gulls were our only companions, and followed our little ship; they seemed to fly without any effort whatever, their spread wings remaining perfectly still for minutes at a time. As I watched them, I said musingly: “Dear harmless gulls, where is your home?” And it seemed to me that they answered: “We have no home; we wander far and wide over the ocean, which gives us our food. We rest on the waves now and then, we care not for wind and storms. We often follow ships,—watching for things thrown overboard. But every year we go to the sea cliffs to lay our eggs, and take care of our young. Then we are a great throng together.”

I thought of the many birds of the sea, and of the giant albatross, closely allied to the gulls—the largest and strongest of all sea-birds, measuring sometimes sixteen and seventeen feet between the tips of their extended wings.

My mind was full of reflections as I was looking at the sea, and I said to myself: “How apparently boundless is this great Atlantic Ocean, and how wonderful! In the far north a gigantic barrier of ice prevents the mariner with his ship from reaching the North Pole.” And I thought of all the heroes who had made the attempt in vain. In the far south a still more forbidding and more extended wall of ice prevents the mariner also from reaching the South Pole. I thought of the white bears, the sea-lions, the walrus. I thought of the Esquimaux, of his dogs, of his kayak or skin canoe, and wondered how men could choose such regions to live in; for life, there, is a battle all the time; dangers meet man on every side. The elements and the country are against him; but in spite of all that, the Esquimaux loves the dreary ice and barren rocks where he was born.

How strange, I thought, that no inhabitant had been found in the southern polar regions, and that no bears had ever been discovered there; and how wonderful it was that at the poles, the sun was in sight for six months, and remained unseen during the six other months of the year, so that a day of light and a day of darkness made one year. When the sun shone at the North Pole, it was dark at the South Pole, and vice versa.

I could not help it, but the view of the great ocean that surrounded us set me continually thinking that day. I wondered at the great depth of the sea, and that the Pacific Ocean was even deeper than the Atlantic—the former in some places having been found to be thirty thousand feet deep, and in a number of places the lead having failed to reach the bottom. The pressure of the water is so great that often the wire holding the lead breaks before reaching such great depths; but if our eyes could pierce through this immense mass of water, we should see that the configuration of land at the bottom of the oceans is very much like that of the earth above the sea. We should behold high mountains, deep ravines, and precipices, and large plains or plateaux, and see that in some places the bottom of the sea is changing constantly, owing to drifting deposits. These have been revealed to us by soundings.

Strange to say, under that great mass of water, as upon the land, sudden volcanic eruptions take place which cause islands to rise high above the sea and to disappear again. Many islands to this day have remained as witnesses of these volcanic eruptions, and become, in the course of ages, covered with forests and other vegetation, and are now inhabited by man.

There is about three times as much sea as there is land; and if it were not for the sea bringing moisture, neither tree, beast, nor man could live on the earth. Though the oceans bear different names, they all communicate with each other.

Then I thought of the rain, and all the rivers pouring their waters into the sea, and I wondered why the sea did not get higher, and, in the course of time, overflow the land. It is because of the evaporation of the water. Do we not see, every morning, the dewdrops glitter in the sun and then disappear? They have evaporated, and gone back to help form the clouds, as well as the sea.

Then I thought of the whales, and of their huge size; that on land the elephant was the largest animal, and that in the sea the whale was the largest creature; and that, though the whale was so much larger that in the comparison the elephant was but a pigmy, yet the home of the whale is correspondingly greater than that of the elephant.

There are several varieties of whales. The Arctic and Greenland whale is from forty to fifty feet in length. Its enormous head is a third of the whole creature. There is also a species of whale which attains a length of eighty, and even eighty-five, feet.

How strange that several species of these huge creatures, on account of the peculiar formation of their throats, can only feed on the most minute crustaceans and pteropods. The fecundity of some of the species of the latter is so wonderful that they cover large areas of the northern and southern Atlantic and Pacific, and swarm in vast shoals, covering the sea for miles, showing their presence by a ruddy hue contrasting with the color of the water. What a feast the whales have when they come where these small creatures are! Their big mouths allow them to take in barrels of water filled with these minute organisms, and they are provided with a peculiar and delicate sieve, by which the water is drained off and the mass of pteropods taken into their stomachs.

I said to myself: “I am now sailing over the home of the whales, and I am going to the home of the elephants.”

But the poor whales and elephants are so much hunted that they become fewer in number every year; and I remembered how my grandmother used to worry at the thought of the disappearance of the whale, for no oil for lamps could then be procured, and what would people then do for light?

After thinking of the whales, I thought of the countless millions and varieties of fish that swim in the sea. I thought of the codfish, of the herring, and of the mackerel, and of their innumerable numbers, and of the many millions that are caught every year by man. Their vast shoals seem not to diminish in spite of all.

How intelligent are the codfish, and other fishes, in their migration. The cod come by countless millions to the same place to spawn. They make their appearance at the same time, year after year, often coming the very same day as the year before, and rarely more than a week before or after their usual time of arrival. After spawning they disappear, leaving stragglers remaining behind. No one knows where they go.

Then I thought of the relentless warfare among fishes, the big fish feeding on the smaller ones,—one single big fish eating hundreds of little ones in one day, the very big ones thousands. The number eaten every day is so great that no calculation can be made of those destroyed. But if it were not for this great destruction among themselves, the sea would become so thick with them, the water would become poisoned and they would all die, and the stench would spread the plague over the world and destroy man.

The second day we saw a sail in the offing, which relieved the loneliness of the sea. Human beings were on board. Man loves the sight of man. The ship passed close to ours and then the wake it left behind disappeared forever.

Towards evening the breeze freshened, the sky became dark, and clouds hung low and sped rapidly. During the night the whistling of the wind and the tossing of the ship told me that a storm was raging. We had entered in the meantime the wonderful Gulf Stream, with its warm water flowing northward. The gale was from the southwest.