The procession out to the Colombo Cricket Grounds, where the game was played, was indeed a novelty, and the crowds of Cingalese that surrounded us as we left the hotel and looked on in open-eyed wonder were by no means the least impressive part of the circus. There were no drags and carriages on this occasion and no gaily-caparisoned horses with nodding plumes, but in their places were heavy-wheeled carts drawn by humpbacked little bullocks and jinrickshas drawn by bare-legged Cingalese. About these swarmed the natives in their rainbow attire, the whole scene being one of the kaleidoscope kind. At the grounds 4,500 people had assembled, the officers and crew of the "Essex" being on hand as well as a crowd of English residents and native Cingalese. We played but five innings, the result being a tie, three runs for each team, a good game under the best of circumstances, and one that apparently pleased everybody, the natives going wild over the batting and making desperate efforts to get out of the way whenever a ball happened to do in their direction. The journey back to the hotel was another circus parade, and one that Barnum, with all his efforts, never was able to equal. From the hotel we went directly to the wharf, where the steam-launch was in waiting, and with a cheer from the crew of the "Essex" in our ears we started for the steamer. As the "Salier" started again on her voyage we climbed into the rigging and lined up along the rail, cheering the crew of the "Essex" until the white forms of the men that lined her rigging were lost to sight. The voyage from Ceylon to Egypt over the Arabian sea and the Gulf of Aden was a most enjoyable one, both sea and sky being deeply, darkly and beautifully blue, with not so much as a cloud or a ripple to mar the beauty of either, and so beautiful were the nights that it was a rare thing for any member of the party to retire until long after the ship's bells had proclaimed the hour of midnight. The second morning after we had left the Island of Ceylon behind us we were all made the victims of a cruel practical joke, of which Lynch and Fogarty were the authors, and for which lynching would hardly have been a sufficient punishment. It was in the early hours of the morning and while we were still "dreaming the happy hours away," that the loud report of a cannon shook the steamer from stem to stern, this being followed by cries of: "Pirates, pirates; my God, boys, the Chinese pirates are upon us!"