A few days before sailing, a suggestion made by Mr. Robinson, the officer whose kindnesses I have had occasion to note before, met with universal favor. For a very small sum each man, a telegram was sent to Mr. R----'s agent in London, in the following words--"When will 'Audacious' commission, and probably sail?" For three days nothing else was spoken of, and various were the speculations as to the answer. It came--"Early September." Very short, but to the point, though to some rather ambiguous. To which did the answer refer, the _commissioning_, or the _sailing_? Reason implied the former, as, knowing it, the latter might be inferred. A subsequent telegram set the matter at rest. April 19th.--After a more than ordinarily long stay at Hong Kong, to-day sees us clearing out of the harbour on our projected summer cruise. The following ships besides ourselves comprised the squadron--"Curacoa," "Encounter," "Albatross," "Swift," "Daring," and "Foxhound," with the "Vigilant" and "Zephyr," which accompanied us out of the harbour. On parting company with the admiral we shaped course for Manilla, the admiral being specially careful to give Captain Tracey injunctions not to forget to bring him 2,000 cigars from that place. We were then sailing under sealed orders. April 24th.--This morning, having sent the "Swift" back to Hong Kong, the sealed orders were opened, and, to the surprise of everybody--to the captain's not less than to our own--we were not to go to Manilla at all! This in the face of what the admiral said to the captain! Well, up helm, and away we go for Loo-Choo; it does not signify much where we go for the next six or eight months, I suppose. April 25th.--_Caught our first shark._ Yes; one out of the many scores in the vicinity actually meditated an attack on our four-pound piece. However he discovered, to his cost, that a barbed hook is no easy matter to digest. He was landed inboard in a trice, and handed over to the tender mercies of the forecastle hands. Now it was a most unfortunate thing for that shark that one of these same _tender_ hands had, that very morning, lost a "hook pot" of fish off the range, through the kind services of some obliging shipmate. Hence revenge was the dominant feeling in that man's breast. Electing himself butcher-in-chief, sharko's spirit was soon gathered to his fathers. A most devilish contrivance--torpedo, electric wire, and all complete--was invented by our torpedo officer for the accommodation of the next friendly shark. With this little affair safely stowed within his stomach, he would find his internal arrangements subject to sudden and unaccountable tension. Enough this to make the shark parliament pass a bill condemning all illicit grabbing.