which have passed from my
mind, leaving predominant those only that I have noted. Among other
experiences, practically all our mess crockery was smashed; the
continual rolling seemed to make the servants wilfully reckless. Also,
having an inefficient caterer, our sea stores were exhausted on the
way, with the ludicrous exception of about a peck of nutmegs. Another
singular incident remains in my memory. At dawn of the day before our
arrival, a mirage presented so exactly, and in the proper quarter, the
appearance of Table Mountain, the landmark of Cape Town, that our
captain, who had been there more than once, was sure of it. As by the
reckoning it must be still over a hundred miles distant, the
navigating officer was summoned, to his great disconcertment, to be
eye-witness of his personal error; and the chronometers fell under
unmerited suspicion. The navigator was an inveterate violinist. He had
a curious habit of undressing early, and then, having by this symbolic
act laid aside the cares of the day, as elbow space was lacking in his
own cabin, he would play in the open ward-room for an hour or more
before turning in; always standing, and attired in a white night-shirt
of flowing dimensions. He was a tall, dark, handsome man, the contrast
of his full black beard emphasizing the oddness of his costume; and so
rapt was he in his performance that remarks addressed directly to him
were unheard. I often had to remind him at ten o'clock that music must
not longer trouble the sleep of the mid-watch officers. On this
occasion, with appearances so against him, perplexed but not
convinced, after looking for a few moments he went below and sought
communion with his beloved instrument; nor did the fading of the
phantasm interrupt his fiddling. When announced, he listened absently,
and continued his aria unmoved by such trivialities. Cape Flyaway, as
counterfeits like this are called, had lasted so long and looked so
plausible that the order was given to raise steam; and when it
vanished later, after the manner of its kind, the step was not
countermanded, for the weather was calm and there were abundant
reasons in our conditions for hurrying into port.

At the season of our stay, May and June, the anchorage at Cape Town
itself, being open to the northward, is exposed to heavy gales from
that quarter, often fatal to shipping. I believe this defect has now
been remedied by a breakwater, which in 1867 either had not been begun
or