. Black dolphins, the
greatest enemy of their flying neighbors, tumbled playfully about in
the rippling water, and at times encircled the ship in great numbers.
Their motion is swift and vigorous,--so much so that it is scarcely
possible to strike them with a harpoon.

On the 20th of October we reached the latitude of the Cape of Good
Hope. Flocks of sea birds fluttered around our masts, for this colder
region is the home of the beautiful sea dove, the great white
albatross and an innumerable multitude of smaller kinds, that on the
approach of stormy weather seem to rise, as by the stroke of a
magician's wand, from the sea. One of the few changes one meets with
on a voyage to Africa is angling for birds, for they are as easily
taken as the finny tribe, by baiting a fish-hook with a piece of fat
meat, and especially so in those rough seas, upon whose surface little
to nourish can be found, they seize greedily upon the hook, which
fastens itself readily in their crooked bills. All these sea birds are
clothed with a coat of feathers so thick and elastic that except in
one or two places they are invulnerable to a bullet.

The fable of the Flying Dutchman is well known--the Demon ship is
still supposed to traverse his unwearied but unprofitable course in
the neighborhood of the Cape. The weather is stormy almost throughout
the year, the skies ever dark and cloudy, but while other ships,
scarcely able to keep themselves steadily afloat, dare show but one or
two storm sails, the phantom ship is scudding before the gale under a
full press of canvass. Our captain assured us with an expression of
countenance which showed that he himself believed what he asserted,
that he had once seen the Dutchman under crowded sail in Table Bay
hardly two English miles distant; that he had altered his course in
order to come up with him, but all at once he vanished, and although
he steered a long time in the same direction, he found no trace of
him. The thing easily explains itself when one considers that the sky
is always dark and foggy, the sea rough and tempestuous, and not
seldom sudden storms of hail and snow prevent the voyager from seeing
a quarter of a mile before him; how easy then to lose sight of a
vessel in an instant.

Much more dangerous than the Flying Dutchman are the floating bodies
of ice, found also in these latitudes; and which often cause great
damage to ships, for owing to the thickness of the atmosphere they are
not se