I must now request the reader to take a leap with me--permissible enough to book writers, though scarcely possible to pedestrians. You are now in the straits of Tsugar, and near the scene of our former misadventure. Before you are the ships of the squadron drawn up in line for a race--no, not all, for the "Mosquito" parted company during the night through stress of weather. The breeze is now blowing at force eight; or, as we should say, "slashing." During the night we had met with a few casualties to our sails, but so slight were they that in the morning we were able to take our place among the coursers, as judge, referee, and starter. At this moment the admiral signals "chase to windward." What takes place now is a pretty sight. Clouds of snowy balloon-like canvas spring, as if by magic, to masts and yards, straining and bellying out with tremendous effort. The steel corvettes were able to carry all plain sail with impunity. Not so with the "Encounter," however, for she is obliged to take a reef in her topsails and to furl her royals, a proceeding which does not lessen her chance of coming in first in the slightest, for she is known to be such a good sailer, that a few yards of canvas, more or less, does not affect her much. Away they go, listing over under the strong pressure, and rising and falling in all the majesty of ships of war. The "Pegasus" now shoots ahead, bidding fair to overhaul the corvettes, but her ambition is speedily curbed by the springing of her main-topsail yard. Placed _hors de combat_, she drops astern to shift her wounded spar. Many little accidents such as this, calling for prompt seamanship, occurred during the forenoon, and hence the value of such trials of speed. For eight hours the squadron disported themselves in this manner, when the "Encounter" was declared the winner by 400 yards. At the moment of shortening sail, our lame duck, the "Mosquito," hove in sight astern, in a sad plight, as is usual with lame ducks. She had lost her fore-topmast and jib-boom during the night, off O'Kosiri. She was at once signalled to repair to Hakodadi with all speed, to effect repairs. By the time the race was finished we were broad off Hakodadi, on the opposite side of the strait, but as it was not intended to push on until next day, easy sail was kept on until daylight. September 7th.--At daybreak a man-of-war, with the Japanese royal standard at the main--sky blue, with a white chrysanthemum in the centre--was observed making out of Hakodadi. Our larger ships at once saluted, the smaller ones lowering their upper sails at the same time. Subsequently we fell in with a Japanese squadron, all with royal flags displayed. They were in attendance on the mikado, who is now on a tour of his empire. By the evening we had arrived and anchored in a double line, at right angles with the town.