water of the Straits of Malacca, a burning, waveless sea, into which
the sun was descending in mingled flame and blood. Then, dinner for
three, consisting of an excellent curry, was spread on the top of the
cabin, and eaten by the captain, engineer, and myself, after which the
engineer took me below to arrange for my comfort, and as it was
obviously impossible for me to sleep in a very dirty and very small
hole, tenanted by cockroaches disproportionately large, and with a
temperature of eighty-eight degrees, he took a mattress and pillows
upon the bridge, told me his history, and that of his colored wife and
sixteen children under seventeen, of his pay of 35 pounds a month, lent
me a box of matches, and vanished into the lower regions with the
consoling words, "If you want anything in the night, just call
'Engineer' down the engine skylight." It does one's heart good to meet
with such a countryman.

The Rainbow is one of the many tokens of preponderating Chinese
influence in the Straits of Malacca. The tickets are Chinese, as well
as the ownership and crew. The supercargo who took my ticket is a sleek
young Chinaman in a pigtail, girdle, and white cotton trousers. The
cabin passengers are all Chinamen. The deck was packed with Chinese
coolies on their way to seek wealth in the diggings at Perak. They were
lean, yellow, and ugly, smoked a pipe of opium each at sundown, wore
their pigtails coiled round their heads, and loose blue cotton
trousers. We had slipped our cable at Singapore, because these coolies
were clambering up over every part of the vessel, and defying all
attempts to keep them out, so that "to cut and run" was our only
chance. The owners do not allow any intoxicant to be brought on board,
lest it should be given to the captain and crew, and they should take
too much and lose the vessel. I am the only European passenger and the
only woman on board. I had a very comfortable night lying on deck in