Steaming onward in a northeasterly direction, Africa gradually receded from our view, and we had barely sighted and passed the southeastern point of Algoa Bay, when we met with another sea, whose swell continued with unabated violence for three days, and greatly impeded our progress. Soon afterwards, when very nearly in the latitude of twenty-six degrees south, and in longitude thirty-seven degrees east, we sailed through many miles of what is termed “the whale’s feed,” which, by the action of the currents, was floating in streams to the southeast. It is said to be an animalcule, and its appearance is not unlike oak saw-dust; while underlying, and mingling with it, is usually found an abundance of craw-fish. Whales, being very fond of this food, are frequently found in its vicinity, and the next day we were spoken by an American whaler, and stopped, while her boat was sent off for news. She proved to be the _Young Phœnix_, of New Bedford, and had been out fourteen months without any tidings from the United States, having taken during that time eleven hundred barrels of oil. It is impossible for one inexperienced in the hardships of sea-life to properly appreciate the feelings of a ship’s crew thus isolated, on meeting with a vessel so recently from home. The interest with which they perused the supply of papers which we gave them must have been of that absorbing character for which the English language affords no adequate expression. The weather was becoming very warm, and the mercury, which had already risen to 85°, was fast seeking a higher elevation. We had passed the “whale’s feed,” and were voyaging along with but little that was noticeable to break the monotony of sea-life, or to add to our stock of information. We observed, however, that the waters assumed a tint of blue deeper than we had noticed in the Atlantic tropics. While sailing there we were particularly charmed with the extreme brilliancy of the stars; often beguiling the hours until late at night, in watching the rising of the planets, and the appearance of the glorious Southern Cross. Never, however, were we so enchanted with the splendor of the starry vault as when tracing our quiet course upon the Indian Ocean, particularly while on our passage from Port Louis, in Mauritius, to Singapore. Venus, which even in our Northern clime is a planet of extraordinary beauty, shines here with such regal splendor as to cast a shadow, and, with the other heavenly bodies, stands out, as it were, in bold relief; thus fully realizing the strange conceit of the ancients that the stars were “fixed,” or riveted like nails to a solid super-mundane sphere.