Monday, March 26th.—­The sun appeared to rise even fiercer and hotter than ever this morning.  I have been very anxious for the last few days about Baby, who has been cutting some teeth and has suffered from a rash.  Muriel has been bitten all over by mosquitoes, and Mabelle has also suffered from heat-rash.  Just now every little ailment suggests small-pox to our minds.

About noon, when in latitude 6.25 North, and in longitude 88.25 East, we began to encounter a great deal of drift wood, many large trees, branches, plants, leaves, nautilus shells, back-bones of cuttlefish, and, in addition, large quantities of yellow spawn, evidently deposited by some fish of large size.  The spawn appeared to be of a very solid, consistent character, like large yellow grapes, connected together in a sort of gelatinous mass.  It formed a continuous wide yellow streak perhaps half a mile in length, and with the bits of wood and branches sticking up in its midst at intervals, it would not have required a very lively imagination to fashion it at a little distance into a sea serpent.  Where does all this debris come from? was the question asked by everybody.  Out of the Bay of Bengal probably, judging from the direction of the current.  We wondered if it could possibly be the remains of some of the trees uprooted by the last great cyclone.

At 1.30 p.m. a man cried out from the rigging, ’Boat on the starboard bow!’ a cry that produced great excitement immediately; our course was altered and telescopes and glasses brought to bear upon the object in question.  Every one on board, except our old sailing master, said it was a native boat.  Some even said that they could see a man on board waving something.  Powell alone declared it to be the root of a palm from the Bay of Bengal, and he proved right.  A very large root it was, with one single stem and a few leaves hanging down, which had exactly the appearance of broken masts, tattered sails, and torn rigging.  We went close alongside to have a good look at it; the water was as clear as crystal, and beneath the surface were hundreds of beautifully coloured fish, greedily devouring something—­I suppose small insects, or fish entangled among the roots.

Tuesday, March 27th.—­It requires a great effort to do anything, except before sunrise or after sunset, owing to the intense heat; and when one is not feeling well it makes exertion still more difficult.  At night the heat below is simply unbearable; the cabins are deserted, and all mattresses are brought up on deck.

CHAPTER XXV.

CEYLON.

Thus was this place A happy rural seat of various views,_ Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, Others, whose fruit, burnish’d with golden rind, Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true.

Wednesday, March 28th.—­At midnight the wind was slightly ahead, and we could distinctly