We had now entered upon what promised to be the most interesting
part of our voyage. As a commercial speculation, I have to admit
that the voyage was to me a matter of absolute indifference.
Never, from the first week of my being on board, had I cherished
any illusions upon that score, for it was most forcibly impressed
on my mind that, whatever might be the measure of success
attending our operations, no one of the crew forward could hope
to benefit by it. The share of profits was so small, and the
time taken to earn it so long, such a number of clothes were worn
out and destroyed by us, only to be replaced from the ship's
slop-chest at high prices, that I had quite resigned myself to
the prospect of leaving the vessel in debt, whenever that
desirable event might happen. Since, therefore, I had never made
it a practice to repine at the inevitable, and make myself
unhappy by the contemplation of misfortunes I was powerless to
prevent, I tried to interest myself as far as was possible in
gathering information, although at that time I had no idea,
beyond a general thirst for knowledge, that what I was now
learning would ever be of any service to me. Yet I had been dull
indeed not to have seen how unique were the opportunities I was
now enjoying for observation of some of the least known and
understood aspects of the ocean world and its wonderful
inhabitants, to say nothing of visits to places unvisited, except
by such free lances as we were, and about which so little is
really known.

The weather of the Mozambique Channel was fairly good, although
subject to electric storms of the most terrible aspect, but
perfectly harmless. On the second evening after rounding Cape