The Ingodah was a plain, unvarnished boat, a hundred and ten feet
long, and about fifteen feet beam. Her hull was of boiler iron, her
bottom flat, and her prow sharp and perpendicular. Her iron, wood
work, and engines were brought in a sailing ship to the Amoor and
there put together. She had two cabins forward and one aft, all below
deck. There was a small hold for storing baggage and freight, but the
most of the latter was piled on deck. The pilot house was over the
forward cabin, and contained a large wheel, two men, and a chart of
the river. The rudder was about the size of a barn door, and required
the strength of two men to control it. Had she ever refused to obey
her helm she would have shown an example of remarkable obstinacy.

Over the after cabin there was a cook-house, where dwelt a shabby and
unwholesome cuisinier. Between the wheels was a bridge, occupied by
the captain when starting or stopping the boat; the engines, of thirty
horse power, were below deck, under this bridge. The cabins, without
state rooms, occupied the whole width of the boat. Wide seats with
cushions extended around the cabins, and served as beds at night. Each
passenger carried his own bedding and was his own chambermaid. The
furniture consisted of a fixed table, two feet by ten, a dozen stools,
a picture of a saint, a mirror, and a boy, the latter article not
always at hand.

The cabins were unclean, and reminded me of the general condition of
transports during our late war. Can any philosopher explain why boats
in the service of government are nearly always dirty?

The personnel of the boat consisted of a captain, mate, engineer, two
pilots, and eight or ten men. The captain and mate were in uniform
when we left port, but within two hours they appeared in ordinary