Unfortunately, the Pasha of Rhodes had left in a Turkish gun-boat bound for Smyrna, and, on calling in at the island of Symi _en route_, heard from the natives of that island that a caique, apparently a pirate, had been seen becalmed off the north-west point of the island the day before. This was a fine chance for the Pasha. As it was calm weather, he sallied forth in a north-westerly direction, and, to his delight, saw the caique in the offing. Guns were loaded; shots were fired across the caique’s bows; and he ran his gun-boat alongside. Up went the English Ensign, which poor Turk naturally thought most improper, seeing a Greek boat and a Greek crew on deck. To cut my story short: They were boarded, taken prisoners, and thumb-screwed. No power on earth, for a long time, could dissuade the old Turk from his way of thinking. So the caique was taken in tow, and a return journey made to Rhodes, where all on board seemed like to be thrown into a dungeon. Luckily, there happened to be in their gun-boat a Scotch engineer who, on being called up, soon discovered who everybody was, and explained the ruse. The poor old Pasha would even then not have it for a long time, and kept them prisoners for the day; and when he had to release them, was furious at having been taken in himself. As soon as the _Foxhound_ returned from her cruise, all this, of course, was reported; and Hobart, not being a man to allow the British Flag to be trifled with, rushed off in chase of the unfortunate Pasha, caught him entering Smyrna Bay, fired a shot across his bows, hove him to, boarded him, gave him an hour to return all the officers’ and men’s effects that had been bagged, pay a sovereign apiece to all the English crew, and salute the British Flag with twenty-one guns--or be blown out of the water. Poor Turk, it is needless to say, did what he was told. The incident found its way to our Ambassador at Constantinople, and there was nearly a big shindy. The _Raleigh_ anchored in Simon’s Bay on arrival at the Cape; and we remained there a few days, refitting and putting matters in order. During a fresh gale we dragged our anchor and parted our cable; but no harm was done, though we drifted rather near the only rocky part of the Bay. All the officers who could be spared went up to Cape Town. There being no railroad, we drove or rode all the way.