t the dinner-table at a late hour, and after I, in company with
some other youngsters, had done as much mischief as we conveniently
could without risking our detention by the strong arm of the law, we
went down to the beach and embarked in a boat with the captain for the
ship. How the sailors ever found her in the impenetrable darkness which
prevailed all around is a mystery to me to this day. Find her, however,
they did; and in half an hour I was in the land of Nod.

The sun was blazing high in the heavens next morning when I awoke, and
gazed around for a few moments to discover where I was; but the rattling
of ropes and blocks, the stamping of feet overhead, the shouts of gruff
voices, and, above all, a certain strange and disagreeable motion in my
dormitory, soon enlightened me on that point. We were going rapidly
down the Thames with a fair breeze, and had actually set sail for the
distant shores of Hudson Bay.

What took place during the next five or six days I know not. The demon
of sea-sickness had completely prostrated my faculties, bodily and
mental. Some faint recollections I have of stormy weather, horrible
noises, and hurried dinners; but the greater part of that period is a
miserable blank in my memory. Towards the sixth day, however, the
savoury flavour of a splendid salmon-trout floated past my dried-up
nostrils like "Afric's spicy gale," and caused my collapsed stomach to
yearn with strong emotion. The ship, too, was going more quietly
through the water; and a broad stream of sunshine shot through the small
window of my berth, penetrated my breast, and went down into the centre
of my heart, filling it with a calm, complacent pleasure quite
indescribable. Sounds, however, of an attack upon the trout roused me,
and with a mighty effort I tumbled out of bed, donned my clothes, and
seated myself for the first time at the cabin table.

Our party consisted of the captain; Mr Carles, a chief factor in the
Company's service; the doctor; young Mr Wiseacre, afore-mentioned; the
first and second mates; and myself. The captain was a thin,
middle-sized, offhand man; thoroughly acquainted with his profession;
good-humoured and gruff by turns; and he always spoke with the air of an
oracle. Mr Carles was a mild, good-natured man, of about fifty-five,
with a smooth, bald head, encircled by a growth of long, thin hair. He
was stoutly built, and possessed of that truly amiable and captivating
disposition which