From Honolulu to Guam we crept straight across in the equatorial
current, blistering hot by day, a white heat haze dimming the horizon,
and an oily sea, not blue, but purple, running in swells so long and
gentle that one could perceive them only by watching the rail change
its angle. Once we saw a whale spout; several times sharks followed
us, attracted by the morning's output of garbage; and at intervals
flying fish sallied out in sprays of silver. Once or twice we passed
through schools of skate, which, when they came under our lee, had
a curiously dazzling and phosphorescent appearance. One of the civil
engineers aboard called them phosphorescent skate, but I had my doubts,
for I noticed that bits of paper cast overboard would assume the same
opalescent tints when three or four feet down in the water.

We had also the full moon, leaving a great shining pathway in our
wake at night, and flooding us with unreal splendor. The pale stars
swung up and down as the _Buford_ slipped over each wave, and little
ripples of breeze cooled the weather side of the ship. By this time
we were a thoroughly assorted company. The afterdeck was yielded
to flirtatious married ladies whose husbands were awaiting them in
Manila, while we sobersides and the family groups gathered under
the awnings. We sang no more; but the indefatigable cornetist on
the troop deck still entertained his fellows, while occasionally
a second steward stole out with a mandolin, and struggled with the
intermezzo from "Cavalleria." We did not run out of talk, however,
and the days went by all too swiftly.

Of Guam I can only say that it struck me as the most desolate spot
I had ever seen. It stays in my memory as a long peninsula, or