Visiting at Sea.

"Towards midnight a light breeze sprang up on our starboard beam and at daylight next morning our companion of the evening before was lying a point on our weather bow and about five miles, with her number flying, which we soon made out to be the Oban Bay, and as soon as he made out our name, which we hoisted in reply, he signalled he was coming on board, and shortly after we saw her boat pulling towards us. The light breeze we had had during the night had died away at sunrise and we were again becalmed. Captain Gourlay himself came in the boat. The reason of his visit was soon made plain. He had already begun to run short of some of his stores. We were able to make up the deficiency.

"The weather remained more or less calm all day, so Captain Gourlay, the third mate (who was also his nephew) and the three merry sailormen who formed his boat's crew, remained on board till the afternoon, thus ensuring themselves two square meals (breakfast and dinner). They reluctantly left us, with the boat filled to the thwarts with what we could spare of the stores they lacked. Next morning she was several miles off on our port bow, and for three or four days we kept company, the; position varying but little, and our daily run averaging 15 to 20 miles. Up to now the glass had kept fairly steady, but shortly after eight bells (noon) it began to go down, and as a bank of black clouds was forming on the starboard beam and beginning to rise we got our stun'sls in, and clewed up and furled the royals and doused the flying jib and light staysails. At this time the Oban Bay was laying about five miles off on our port beam, and though it was evident we were in for a heavy squall at least, he had made no sign that he noticed anything out of the way. At four bells both of us were still becalmed.