Sunday, November 26th.—­Our fourth consecutive Sunday at sea, and out of sight of land.  At 4 a.m. the sails were spread to a good breeze.  At 7 we stopped steaming, but at 10 the wind again fell light.  The Litany was read on deck this morning on account of the heat.  The observations at noon showed that we were in lat. 15 deg. 47’ S., long. 135 deg. 20’ W., the distance accomplished during the last twenty-four hours being 181 miles.  We have now made good 4,067 miles from Valparaiso, and are 815 miles distant from Tahiti.  At 5 p.m. we had prayers and a sermon, also on deck.  It was then almost calm, and at eight o’clock we again began steaming, in order to insure our making the island of Tatakotoroa, 200 miles off, before dark to-morrow.

Monday, November 27th.—­I was on deck at 3.30 a.m.  Everybody on board was more or less excited at the prospect of making land, after twenty-eight days at sea.  It was a delicious morning, with a favourable breeze, and under steam and sail we progressed at the rate of from 10 to 11-1/2 knots an hour.  Several birds flew on board, amongst whom were two boobies, who hovered round us and appeared to examine everything with great curiosity, especially the little wind-vanes at the extremity of the masts.  At last they settled on the foretopmast, whereupon one of the sailors went up to try and catch them.  They observed his movements closely, and appeared to be specially interested in his cap; but as he approached, first one and then the other flew away for a few yards, and then returned to his former position.  At last the man, watching his opportunity, managed to seize one of them by his legs and bring him down in triumph, despite flapping wings and pecks from a sharp beak.  He was shut up in the fowl-pen—­now, alas, empty of its proper denizens—­where we had an opportunity of examining him before he was killed.  He was a fine, handsome, grey bird, with large blue eyes, and a wild hawk-like look.

At one o’clock we were almost sailing over the spot marked by Findlay as the situation of Tatakotopoto, or Anonymous Island; but there was nothing whatever visible in the shape of land, even from the masthead, where a man was stationed, and from which it was possible to see a distance of ten or fifteen miles.  Tom went up himself several times and scanned the horizon carefully, but in vain.  It is therefore evident either that the position of the island is incorrectly stated, or that it has become submerged.  I believe that in these seas there are many islands marked that have no existence, and that several that do exist are not marked, which renders it necessary to keep a constant good look-out.  What a charming task it would be thoroughly to survey these parts, and to correct the present charts where necessary, and how much I should like to be one of the officers appointed for the service!

[Illustration:  Tatakotoroa or Clarke Island]