The time had now come when we had to say farewell to the many kind friends whom we have met here, and who have made life so pleasant to us during the last three weeks, in order that we might return to the yacht, to complete our preparation for an early start.  The last leave-takings were soon over, and, with mutually expressed hopes that we might ere long meet some of our friends in England, Tom and I drove off, in the bright moonlight, to the quay, where our boat was waiting for us.  The other members of our party found the attractions of the ball so irresistible that they were unable to tear themselves away until a much later nour.

[Illustration:  The Three Navigators]

CHAPTER V.

THE RIVER PLATE.

    Blue, glossy green, and velvet black,
    They coiled and swam; and every track
    Was a flash of golden fire.

Tuesday, September 5th.—­We got under way at 6 a.m., and soon bade adieu to Rio, where we have spent so many happy days, and to our friends on board H.M.S.  ‘Volage’ and ‘Ready,’ with whom we interchanged salutes in passing.  It was a dull wet morning, and we could not see much of the beauties we were leaving behind us.  The peak of Tijuca and the summit of the Corcovado were scarcely visible, and the Sugarloaf and Gavia looked cold and grey in the early mist.  It was not long before we were rolling on the bar, and then tumbling about in very uncomfortable fashion in the rough sea outside.  One by one we all disappeared below, where most of us remained during the greater part of the day.  As for me, I went to bed for good at six o’clock in the evening, but was called up again at ten, to see some large bonitos playing about the bows of the yacht.  It was really worth the trouble of getting up and climbing quite into the bows of the vessel to watch them, as they gambolled and frisked about, brightly illumined by the phosphorescence of the water, now swimming together steadily in pairs or fours, now starting in sudden pursuit of one of their number, who would make an independent rush forward in advance of his companions.

Saturday, September 9th.—­The last three days have been showery, with squalls which have freshened to a gale, and we are now scudding along, under all storm canvas, followed by crowds of cape-pigeons and cape-hens, and a few albatrosses.  Towards this evening, however, the wind fell light, and we got up steam, in order to be prepared for any emergency, as a calm is frequently succeeded on this coast by a pampero, and we are now approaching a lee shore.