homesickness in our
hearts, and in our ears the unfamiliar voice of the invisible ocean,
which drew and repelled us at the same time. The fortnight in
quarantine was not an episode; it was an epoch, divisible into eras,
periods, events.

The greatest event was the arrival of some ship to take some of
the waiting passengers. When the gates were opened and the lucky
ones said good-bye, those left behind felt hopeless of ever
seeing the gates open for them. It was both pleasant and
painful, for the strangers grew to be fast friends in a day, and
really rejoiced in each other's fortune; but the regretful envy
could not be helped either.

Our turn came at last. We were conducted through the gate of
departure, and after some hours of bewildering manoeuvres, described
in great detail in the report to my uncle, we found ourselves--we five
frightened pilgrims from Polotzk--on the deck of a great big steamship
afloat on the strange big waters of the ocean.

For sixteen days the ship was our world. My letter dwells solemnly on
the details of the life at sea, as if afraid to cheat my uncle of the
smallest circumstance. It does not shrink from describing the torments
of seasickness; it notes every change in the weather. A rough night is
described, when the ship pitched and rolled so that people were thrown
from their berths; days and nights when we crawled through dense fogs,
our foghorn drawing answering warnings from invisible ships. The
perils of the sea were not minimized in the imaginations of us
inexperienced voyagers. The captain and his officers ate their
dinners, smoked their pipes and slept soundly in their turns, while we
frightened emigrants turned our faces to the wall and awaited our
watery graves.

All this while the seasickness lasted. Then came happy hours on deck,
with fugitive sunshine, birds atop the crested waves, band music and
dancing and fun. I explored the ship, made friends with officers and
crew, or pursued my thoughts in quiet nooks. It was my first
experience of the ocean, and I was profoundly moved.

Oh, what solemn thoughts I had! How deeply I felt the greatness,
the power of the scene! The immeasurable distance from horizon
to horizon; the huge billows forever changing their shapes--now
only a wavy and rolling plain, now a chain of great mountains,
coming and going farther away; then a town in the distance,
perhaps, with spires and towers and