the junks.

She was then kedged over the reef, as Tim Rooney had suggested to Mr
Mackay in the first instance as the best plan; the Blazer's officers and
crew helping us to get her outside, and afterwards assisting us in
loading her up again.

Then, our dear old barquey sailed for Hongkong, where she put in for
temporary repair so as to be able to prosecute the remainder of her
voyage, and here poor Mr Saunders died at last, and was laid to rest in
"Happy Valley," the English burying-place, that has such a poetical name
and such sad surroundings!

We were detained nearly a month here docking, and during our stay
Captain Gillespie rejoiced all hands by rewarding them for their pluck
in fighting and floating the ship again with the present of a month's
wages for a spree ashore. "Old Jock" could well afford to be liberal,
too; for a native speculator gave him a better price for the balance of
his marmalade than he would have realised if he had fed the men on it
throughout our home voyage.

Our repairs and refit being at last completed we set sail for Shanghai,
casting anchor in the Yang-tse-kiang eight days exactly after our
leaving Hongkong.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

"Bedad, sorr, it sames I'm dhramin', sure," observed Tim Rooney to Mr
Mackay as the two now stood together on the forecastle, looking out over
the hows. "It's moighty loike the ould river; an' I'd a'most fancy I
wor home ag'in, an' not in Chainee at all at all!"

"You're not far wrong, bosun," replied Mr Mackay, smiling at his
remark, or rather at the quaint way in which it was made. "I can fancy
the same thing myself, the appearance of the Yang-tse-kiang hereabouts
being strangely like that of the Thames just below Greenhithe."

I, overhearing their conversation, thought the same too; for, although,
of course, there was no dome of Saint Paul's in the distance, nor
forests of masts, nor crowds of steamers passing to and fro, nor all
that bustle of business and din and dense black smoke from those
innumerable funnels that distinguishes the waterway which forms the
great heart artery of London, still there were many points of
resemblance between the two--the show of shipping opposite Shanghai,
where we lay, being almost as fair as that which is to be seen sometimes
at the mouth of the Thames on a fine day, when it blows from the south
and there are many wind-bound craft waiting to get down Channel.

The sampans and other native