A clean bill of health at Mauritius—Sailing the voyage over again in the opera-house—A newly discovered plant named in honor of the Spray ’s skipper—A party of young ladies out for a sail—A bivouac on deck—A warm reception at Durban—A friendly cross-examination by Henry M. Stanley—Three wise Boers seek proof of the flatness of the earth—Leaving South Africa.
On the 16th of September , after eight restful days at Rodriguez, the mid-ocean land of plenty, I set sail, and on the 19th arrived at Mauritius, anchoring at quarantine about noon. The sloop was towed in later on the same day by the doctor’s launch, after he was satisfied that I had mustered all the crew for inspection. Of this he seemed in doubt until he examined the papers, which called for a crew of one all told from port to port, throughout the voyage. Then finding that I had been well enough to come thus far alone, he gave me pratique without further ado. There was still another official visit for the Spray to pass farther in the harbor. The governor of Rodriguez, who had most kindly given me, besides a regular mail, private letters of introduction to friends, told me I should meet, first of all, Mr. Jenkins of the postal service, a good man. “How do you do, Mr. Jenkins?” cried I, as his boat swung alongside. “You don’t know me,” he said. “Why not?” I replied. “From where is the sloop?” “From around the world,” I again replied, very solemnly. “And alone?” “Yes; why not?” “And you know me?” “Three thousand years ago,” cried I, “when you and I had a warmer job than we have now” (even this was hot). “You were then Jenkinson, but if you have changed your name I don’t blame you for that.” Mr. Jenkins, forbearing soul, entered into the spirit of the jest, which served the Spray a good turn, for on the strength of this tale it got out that if anyone should go on board after dark the devil would get him at once. And so I could leave the Spray without the