, and its yellow beams were throwing a brassy tint over the sea
and sky; the sailors were engaged, some fishing with patient
assiduity, others, grouped into small knots, listening to prosy yarns;
while a few were prostrated round the decks in attitudes of perfect
abandonment or sleep. The officers were leaning over the taffrail,
trying, with a sportsman-like anxiety worthy of better prey, to hook a
shark, which was slowly meandering under the stern; or looking
contemplatively into the dark-brown waves, either watching the many
forms of animal life which floated by, or recalling to memory the dear
objects of distant lands. The officer of the watch, with his spyglass
under his arm, was pacing languidly his narrow round, when 'Sail ho!'
in clear and piercing tones, resounded from the mast-head, and with
electric speed filled the dreamers with life and energy.

'Point to her,' cried the officer of the watch; while all eyes were
directed to the look-out aloft, whose glass was immediately stretched
to the north. Speculation now sits in every vacant eye, and conjecture
on every silent tongue. The captain was at his post with vigilant
alacrity. 'How is she standing? what sail is she under?' was soon
answered, and the orders, 'Get the steam up, lower the propeller,'
echoed round the decks, mingled with the shrill pipes of the
boatswain's mates.

The men flew to their posts; and whilst the cumbrous screw was
descending slowly into the water, the stokers had roused the
smouldering embers into life.

'All hands up anchor!' The capstan revolves and creaks, as one and all
of these willing men strain their starting muscles at the bars. The
anchor reluctantly leaves its oozy bed; but the chinking of the cable,
as it steadily ascends, reveals no change, until it swings at the bow.

'Go on ahead!' The steam whistles through its silent chambers, like
sweet music, calling into life that ponderous mechanism, until it
appears to dance with joy.

'Helm a-port--steady so!' The waves rise high on either bow as we dash
through the foaming waters. Our distance from the object rapidly
diminishes, while eager eyes are directed ahead, until it is seen from
the deck. Hope fills the breast of the sanguine, despair that of the
gloomy and desponding. Sure eyes and good telescopes soon descry the
Yankee ensign floating aloft in lazy folds; and as we come still
nearer, those accustomed to observe the shape of sails and set of
masts, detect the pecul