At four o’clock we weighed anchor, and once more made a start from Kobe, and passed through the Straits of Akashi.  The wind was dead ahead, but not so strong as when we made our previous attempts.  It was bitterly cold, the thermometer, in a sheltered place, being only one degree above freezing, and the breeze from the snowy mountains cutting like a knife.

We were all disappointed with our sail to-day; perhaps because we had heard so much of the extreme beauty of the scenery, and this is not the best time of year for seeing it.  The hills are all brown, instead of being covered with luxuriant vegetation, and all looked bleak and barren, though the outlines of the mountain ranges were very fine.  We were reminded of the west coast of Scotland, the Lofoden Islands in the Arctic Circle, and the tamer portions of the scenery of the Straits of Magellan.

After passing through the Straits, we crossed the Harima Nada—­rather a wider portion of the sea—­and then entered the intricate channels among the islands once more.  There are three thousand of them altogether, so one may take it for granted that the navigation is by no means easy.  The currents and tides are strong, sunken rocks are frequent, and the greatest care is requisite.  Indeed, many people at Yokohama urged Tom to take a pilot.

[Illustration:  Yoken San or Sacred Mountain, Inland Sea]

We had one lovely view in the afternoon of the island of Yoken San, with its snowy mountain at the back, and a pretty little village, with a few picturesque junks in the foreground.  The yacht passed between Oki Sama and Le Sama, steering straight for the cone-shaped little island of Odutsi.  Towards dusk we made the light of Nabae Sinaon Yo Sina, and, steering past it, had to take several sharp and awkward turns, to avoid two reefs off Siyako and Usi Suria.  Thus we threaded the St. Vincent’s Channel, and, avoiding the Conqueror bank by another sharp turn, dropped anchor at Imo Ura, in Hurusima, precisely at 8.30 p.m.  Tom had been on the look-out since 5 a.m., and we were all more or less worn out with the fatigue and excitement of last night.

Friday, February 16th.—­Off again at 4 a.m.  The scenery was much finer than yesterday, and the wind not quite so bitterly cold.

About 11 a.m.  I heard a hurrying to and fro, and once more the cry of ‘Fire!’ This time it was in the store-room that it broke out.  The iron plates on which the saloon and galley grates are fixed had become red-hot, and the wooden deck below had consequently caught fire.  The boxes on both sides, containing the stores, were in flames; but they were quickly removed, water was poured down, and the second and third fires were thus soon extinguished.

[Illustration:  Hurusima, Inland Sea.]

Saturday, February 17th.—­At 3.15 a.m. we began to slow; at 3.45 the anchor was dropped near the lighthouse of Isaki, and we waited until daylight before proceeding through the Straits of Simono-seki.  About nine o’clock a fresh start was made, under steam, but before long the wind freshened, and as soon as the anchorage near the town was reached we let go once more, near two men-of-war, who had preceded us from Kobe, but who were now wind-bound, like ourselves.