The great danger of smelting coal, as a ship’s cargo, besides its special liability to spontaneous combustion, appears to be that the fire may smoulder in the very centre of the mass for so long that, when the smoke is at last discovered, it is impossible to know how far the mischief has advanced.  It may go on smouldering quietly for days, or at any moment the gas that has been generated may burst up the vessel’s decks from end to end, without the slightest warning.  Or it may burn downwards, and penetrate some portion of the side of the ship below water; so that, before any suspicion has been aroused, the water rushes in, and the unfortunate ship and her crew go to the bottom.  On board the ‘Monkshaven’ the men dug down into the cargo in many places on Sunday night, only to find that the heat became more intense the deeper they went; and several of them had their hands or fingers burnt in the operation.

This has been about the best day for sailing that we have had since we left the tropics.  The sea has been smooth, and a fair breeze has taken us steadily along at the rate of nine knots an hour.  The sun shone brightly beneath a blue sky, and the temperature is delightful.  The sunset was grand, though the sky looked threatening; but the moon rose brilliantly, and until we went to bed, at ten o’clock, the evening was as perfect as the day had been.  At midnight, however, Tom and I were awakened by a knock at our cabin door, and the gruff voice of Powell, saying:  ’The barometer’s going down very fast, please, sir, and it’s lightning awful in the sou’-west.  There’s a heavy storm coming up.’  We were soon on deck, where we found all hands busily engaged in preparing for the tempest.  Around us a splendid sight presented itself.  On one side a heavy bank of black clouds could be seen rapidly approaching, while the rest of the heavens were brilliantly illuminated by forked and sheet lightning, the thunder meanwhile rolling and rattling without intermission.  An ominous calm followed, during which the men had barely time to lower all the sails on deck, without waiting to stow them, the foresail and jib only being left standing, when the squall struck us, not very severely, but with a blast as hot as that from a furnace.  We thought worse was coming, and continued our preparations; but the storm passed rapidly away to windward, and was succeeded by torrents of rain, so that it was evident we could only have had quite the tail of it.

Saturday, September 30th.—­The morning broke bright and clear, and was followed by a calm, bright, sunny day, of which I availed myself to take some photographs of the captain and crew of the ‘Monkshaven.’  The wind failed us entirely in the afternoon, and it became necessary to get up steam.  In the ordinary course of things, we should probably have had sufficient patience to wait for the return of the breeze; but the recent large addition to our party made it desirable for us to lose as little time as possible in reaching Sandy Point.  Another grand but wild-looking sunset seemed like the precursor of a storm; but we experienced nothing worse than a sharp squall of hot wind, accompanied by thunder and lightning.