bout the same time a
French expedition left Europe bound for the same spot. From New York
to Panama, from Panama to Lima, were our first steps. Here we joined
the United States steamship Hartford, Admiral Farragut's flagship, and
the next day set sail for our destined port,--if a coral reef
surrounded by a raging surf can be called a port. About the same time
a party of French observers under Monsieur Janssen, of the Paris
Academy of Sciences, left Panama in the _Eclaireur_.

[Illustration: BIRD'S EYE VIEW OF THE CAROLINE ISLANDS.]

It was an ocean race of four thousand miles due west. The station
Caroline Islands was supposed to be more desirable than Flint Island.
Admiral Wilkes's expedition had lain off the latter several days
without being able to land on account of the tremendous surf, so that
it was eminently desirable to "beat the Frenchman," as the sailors put
it. With this end in view our party had secured (through a member of
the National Academy in Washington) the verbal promise of the proper
official of the Navy Department that the Hartford's orders should read
"to burn coal as necessary." The last obstacle to success was thus
removed. We were all prepared, and now the ship would take us speedily
to our station.

Imagine our feelings the next day after leaving Callao, when the
commanding officer of the Hartford opened his sealed orders. They read
(dated Washington, in February), "To arrive at Caroline Islands (in
April) with full coal-bunkers!"

Officialism could go no further. Here was an expedition sent on a
slow-sailing ship directly through the regions of calms for four
thousand miles. It was of no possible use to send the expedition at
all unless it arrived in time. And here were our orders "to arrive
with full coal-bunkers."

Fortunately we had unheard-of good-luck. The trade-wind blew for us as
it did for the Ancient Mariner, and we sped along the parallel of 12 deg.
south at the rate of one hundred and fifty miles a day under sail,
while the _Eclaireur_ was steaming for thirty days a little nearer the
equator in a dead calm. We arrived off the island just in time, with
not a day to spare. It was a narrow escape, and a warning to all of us
never to sail again under sealed orders unless we knew what was under
the seal.

Here we were, then, lying off the island and scanning its sparse crown
of cocoanut palms, looking for a French flag among their wavy tufts.
There was none in sight. We were the