We had hoped to make the Caroline Islands before dark (not the Caroline Islands proper, but a group of low islets, whose position is very uncertainly indicated in the different charts and books); but the wind fell light, and as we could see nothing of them at sunset, although the view from the masthead extended at least fifteen miles in every direction, it was decided at eight o’clock to put the ship about, to insure not running on them or any of the surrounding reefs in the night.  The currents run very swiftly between these islands, and it is impossible to tell your exact position, even a few hours after having taken an observation.

Tuesday, December 12th.—­The wind freshened immediately after we had changed our course last night, and fell light directly we had put about again this morning, so that it was fully 9 a.m. before we had regained our position of yesterday evening.

Our compass-cards were getting worn out, and Tom gave out new ones before leaving Tahiti.  I was very much amused to-night, when, as usual, just before going to bed, I went to have a look at the compass and see how the yacht was lying, and asked the man at the wheel what course he was steering.  ‘North and by west, half-east, ma’am,’ he replied.  ‘That’s a funny course,’ I said; ‘tell me again.’  He repeated his statement; whereupon I remarked that the course was quite a new one to me.  ‘Oh, yes, ma’am,’ he answered, ’but them’s the new compass-cards.’  This man is one of the best helmsmen in the ship, but certainly seems to be an indifferent scholar.

Friday, December 15th.—­We crossed the line at half-past four this morning.  Father Neptune was to have paid us another visit in the evening, but the crew were busy, and there were some difficulties about arranging the details of the ceremony.  The children were obliged, therefore, to be content with their usual game of drilling every one that they were able to muster for soldiers, after the fashion of Captain Brown’s ‘rifle practice,’ or marching up and down the decks to the strains of Jem Butt’s fiddle playing ’Tommy make room for your Uncle,’ accompanied by the somewhat discordant noise of their own drums.  These amusements after sunset, and scrubbing decks and working at the pumps before sunrise, give us all the much-needed exercise it is impossible to take in the heat of the daytime.

[Illustration:  Tattoo in the Tropics]

Saturday, December 16th.—­At 1.30 a.m.  I was awoke by the strains of sweet music, and could not at first imagine where I could be, or whence the sounds came.  It proved to be the performance of some ‘waits’ on board.  I do not know who originated the idea, but it was a very good one, and was excellently carried out.  Everybody assembled on deck by degrees, and the songsters enjoyed a glass of grog when their labours were finished, after which we all went to bed again.