“At 7 P.M. a furious squall came off the land; could scarcely keep the bonnets on our heads.  Pitchy dark, except the white curl on the waves, which was phosphorescent.  Seeing that we could not enter the harbor, though we had been near, I stopped the steaming and got up the try-sails, and let Pennell, who has been up thirty hours, get a sleep.

“13_th June_, 1864.—­We found that we had come north only about ten miles.  We had calms after the squall, and this morning the sea is as smooth as glass, and a thick haze over the land.  A scum as of dust on face of water.  We are, as near as I can guess by the chart, about twenty-five miles from the port of Bombay.  Came to Choul Rock at mid-day, and, latitude agreeing thereto, pushed on N. by W. till we came to light-ship.  It was so hazy inland we could see nothing whatever, then took the direction by chart, and steered right into Bombay most thankfully.  I mention God’s good providence over me, and beg that He may accept my spared life for his service.”

Between the fog and the small size of the Nyassa, her entrance into the harbor was not observed.  Among Livingstone’s first acts on anchoring was to give handsome gratuities to those who had shared his danger and helped him in his straits.  Going ashore, he called on the Governor and the police magistrate, but the one was absent and the other busy, and so he returned to the ship unrecognized.  The schedules of the custom-house sent to be filled up his first recognition by the authorities of Bombay.  He replied that except a few bales of calico and a box of beads he had no merchandise; he was consigned to no one; the seamen had only their clothes, and he did not know a single soul in Bombay.  As soon as his arrival was known every attention was showered on him by Sir Bartle Frere, the Governor, and others.  They had been looking out for him, but he had eluded their notice.  The Governor was residing at Dapuri, and on his invitation Livingstone went there.  Stopping at Poona, he called on the missionaries, and riding on an elephant he saw some of the “lions” of the place.  Colonel Stewart, who accompanied him, threw some light on the sea-serpent.  “He told us that the yellow sea-serpent which we had seen before reaching Bombay is poisonous; there are two kinds—­one dark olive, the other pale lemon color; both have rings of brighter yellow on their tails.”

Landing in India was a strange experience, as he tells Sir Thomas Maclear.  “To walk among the teeming thousands of all classes of population, and see so many things that reading and pictures had made familiar to the mind, was very interesting.  The herds of the buffaloes, kept I believe for their milk, invariably made the question glance across the mind, ‘Where’s your rifle?’ Nor could I look at the elephants either without something of the same feeling.  Hundreds of bales of cotton were lying on the wharves.”.