And the boat continuing indomitably to endure her punishment, I ventured to suppose she had been specially constructed for this work. But George assured me cheerfully that such was far from being the case. "Oh, no," said he. "Before I bought her and decked her in she was a Clacton beach boat. You know. Carting a gang of trippers round at a bob a head. Regular old shilling - vomiter she was, in fact." "Ah, I see," said I. "And she seems to be taking again to her former habits. If I am not mistaken Mr Van Ping already owes you three shillings; and I feel that if this bumping goes on much longer I shall be in your debt too." "Do it well over the side, then, and we won't insist on our bob," said George, looking at the Lady who Dances, who was palpably scared, but just as palpably determined not to show it. "I believe," said he then, “if we put sail on her now she might drive over the bar. We'll try it anyhow, as things will be quieter if we get her under way." hanging at the cat-heads and hoist away on that sail. Put up your helm and damn it, the peak halliards have got away from me." These cheery sounds, floating to us aft out of the darkness, made our Lady laugh again, which all the time had been precisely George's laudable intention. Observing this, and knowing, too, how action tends to banish apprehension, I gave the Lady the tiller together with instructions, and then I crawled forward, to find George wrapped in a Laocöon-like coil of halliards. It I suppose I have set some hundreds of mainsails in my time, and George must have hoisted that one particular sail hundreds of times too. Yet this time George's mainsail nearly defeated us both. refused to go up, while all we two able seamen seemed able to do was to fall, heavily and repeatedly, down. The foredeck was coated with wet and slippery mud, it was listed at an acute angle, and regularly every two seconds the whole boat shook with a shuddering jar that made any sort of foothold impossible. Why say more? The wonder is that we ever set that sail at all. But we did, and while we were doing it, oblivious to everything else in the world except the ultimate setting of that confounded sail, the boat must have somehow bumped and slid and wrenched herself over the bar; for we found, when at last we straightened our aching backs and looked around, that she was afloat again, and sailing. Then we became aware of cries arising from aft. "Oh, which way shall I push the stick. Which way? Which way ? It was the Lady in trouble with the steering, and, from the note of agony in her voice, she must have been in trouble for some time. "Look out! You'll jibe. Put down your helm," we helpfully cried. "Which way? Which way?" the anguished answer came, and with it the crash and jerk and racket of a most healthy and fullblooded jibe. "Relieve the wheel," said George, "and keep her before the wind till I get a light in the binnacle and see where we're running to." appearing. "It's lucky our Lady can see in the dark, for that's the beach. I haven't a chart, and, anyhow, there's no oil in the lamp; so we'll keep her running along in sight of the shore, and in time we ought to connect with Clacton pier. I think there's lots of water." The cheerful and casual methods adopted by George, when navigating in those difficult and tide-ridden waters so afflicted by shoals, impressed me. They were sketchy, perhaps, but most surprisingly adequate, for presently a strange enormous shape loomed in the black above us, and, Pavilion on the pier," said George. "Bear up or you'll hit it." We had arrived! Anchoring in the pier's inadequate lee, we drew the dinghy alongside, and looked at it. She was small—very small-and very full of water; but George opined that she would take us all "if you bail hard with the bucket." So we embarked, reluctantly, especially the Gent from Peking, who, though strongly reminiscent still of slipper-limpets, simply had to be carried. know not how we reached the pier; I was far too busy bailing, and the credit is due to George alone for performing this final miracle. Banging I I steered the boat, it seemed for hours, while she rushed blindly through a night mysterious, wild and darker than the shades. "Keep your eye skinned," called George, wrestling still with matches in the cabin. "We don't want to knock a hole in any of the banks around here, and there are dozens of 'em, you know." As this perturbing piece of news was being imparted, I felt the Lady who Dances start. "There's something and slithering amid encrusted there," she cried. "Look! Right in front of us. A low black line. What can it be? "Then jibe her, quick!" said George, most suddenly piles we felt, by hand, for a landing-place which even the Lady who sees in the Dark could not make out in that Cimmerian darkness. Mr Van Ping it was who finally showed scarcely be induced to regard us the way, for suddenly he us as possible fares, and it was sprang wildly out into the necessary to make it very clear night, and we heard him then that the adventure would shaking himself exuberantly prove to him most lucrative upon some platform invisible before he would permit us to above us. embark on his rattling "randrydan." "Well, there you are," said George. "Safe ashore again. I'm sorry you feel you have got to go, but some day soon I hope you'll come for another little sail. I'll get back now and shove off for Harwich. Good-bye, you three. I'm awfully glad we met." And then George disappeared into the night. That was the last we saw of him, and we've never heard of him since. But one thing I am sure of, and that is that he fetched Harwich. I feel that if George made up his mind to it he could fetch Melbourne, say, in a small canoe. And what is more, he would be certain to enjoy his little sail. In February it seems, to judge from its forlorn and desolate pier, Clacton is out of season; and later, whilst traversing the town in search of suitable wheeled transport, we felt very glad of this fact, for even a native population inured to the sartorial peculiarities of week-end trippers proved able only to regard us with feelings of startled amazement, coupled with a glib derision which was very embarrassing indeed. Even the ancient, and therefore presumably experienced, Jehu of a battered car, as weathered as himself, could VOL. CCXVII.-NO. MCCCXV. 66 Wickilywick, you say. Yes, down in the marsh. I know it. I'll risk it-for two quid. But you'll ruin my cushions. 'Ere, sit on this nose-bag. And hold the dog on your lap all the way, mind, for 'e smells 'orrid. Fish, ain't it?" And so at length we departed, rattling Wickily wickwards through the night, disturbing as we went, with our outrageous clamour, sleeping suburban Clactonites, blackbirds roosting in hedgey lanes, and mournful lapwings hiding in the marsh. "I'm cold and I'm wet and very, very dirty. I've a bruise on all my corners, and I'm tired out. But somehow," said the Lady who Dances, "I'm happy. We've had a good day to-day, I think, don't you?" aren't all worried to death about us. It's after one o'clock, and they'll be wondering what's happened. Search parties out all over the marsh, and the police called in, I expect." Said the Lady, as we at last approached the farm, "They don't seem very excited. The house is all dark! I believe the callous beasts have calmly gone to bed." They had, and our host alone arose to greet us. Awakened doubtless by the tumultuous whirring of our gears, he called from his bedroom window, "I say, did you take Van Ping Ah! good. He's there. I was The afraid he'd lost himself. side door's open, children, and you'll find a cold duck and a ham and things in the hall. But I'm freezing. Good-night, and God bless you." When I got to bed at last I lay awake a little while, thinking about things. "It's the queerest country in all the world," I thought, "with the very quaintest people. Yes. All these years I've been wasting my time; but I'm home again at last-and I mean to stay here." And as I fell most peacefully asleep I whispered to myself, "Dear England." THE SPICE ISLANDS. BY DAVID HANNAY. THE influence of the cruet and the spice-box has never been acknowledged with all the candour and respect it deserves. And yet it has been very great. What drew Vasco da Gama to the East? What sent Columbus sailing across the Atlantic to the West? First of all, and chiefly, the desire of Europe to reach the countries from which came pepper and cinnamon, nutmegs and cloves. Other desirable things were to be found in those landsdrugs, perfumes, ornaments, and the precious metals. The more of them there were to gain, the better no doubt. But what started the quest was the longing to obtain access to the regions where condiments and flavours could be secured on better terms than European mankind knew of by experience, before the end of the fifteenth century. Our ancestors in a general way ate insipid foods, unless they were barons and knights, who could kill their game in the forest,-and even they liked to have the spices added to their venison and their drinks. It is true that from of old they had been able to buy them in the market, but at an immense cost. Most men either went unsatisfied, or had to be content with an occasional taste. The pepper and the rest came from remote Eastern continents, and islands very dimly known of in Europe, or not known at all. The finest came from those spice-bearing islands named the Moluccas. Run your finger down longitude 124° E. of Greenwich till it reaches latitude 5° S. Imagine yourself at the point where the longitude cuts the equator. Then you will be at the most convenient central spot from which to take an all-round survey of the Spice Islands, from Jilolo, Ternate, and Tidore on the north-east to Amboyna on the south. There are a vast number of them between New Guinea on the east and Borneo on the west, and latitudes 5° N. and 5° S. All are not valuable, but among them they produce the fine spices. For many centuries their produce had reached Europe by long sea voyages and in lumbering craft, which could sail only before the wind. It came to the Shat-el-Arab at the head of the Persian Gulf, and then by caravan to the Syrian ports; but the bulk of that trade came to Jedda on the Arabian side of the Red Sea, and was transhipped to small craft which carried it to Egyptian ports, from whence it was borne by camels to the Nile Valley and Alexandria. Many tranship |