I borrowed one of Dumpling’s bags, which I found lying about (I didn’t ask him), and we were ready before the boat came alongside, Mellins giving us a basketful of grub as we shoved off. Toddles was put aboard "No. 1", and then they put me aboard "No. 3", where I reported to Mr. Parker, the lieutenant in command. Luckily for me, Toddles in his hurry had forgotten his share of the grub. I was sent aft to look after the stern ropes and see that everything was "clear" astern, for we were on the point of shoving off. "What’s up? Where are we off to?" I asked two men standing aft. "Going after them pirates, sir, I expect. I heard Mr. Parker tell the Sub-lootenant that we ’ad to follow them as ’ard as we could." I hadn’t any time to ask more, for Mr. Parker sang out from the bridge "Let go aft!" and we hauled in the slip on the buoy astern. When the rope was clear of her screws and rudder I shouted out "All clear astern, sir", and away we went, following close behind "No. 2". As we went past the other three ships the men crowded to the side and cheered us, for they had got wind of what we were going to do. It does make you feel ripping to hear and see people cheering you. From the _Laird_ Mellins made a semaphore signal with his arms, "Is grub safe?" so I waved back "Yes", and on we went into the canal. It soon became dark, and our French pilot made us run our search-light, though it wasn’t much good, as the bridge got in the way. However, it lighted up both sides of the steep sandy banks, and we followed "No. 2" somehow or other. Of course we wanted to go as fast as we could, and the pilot nearly had apoplexy, shrieking and gesticulating with fright or anger, whenever "No. 2" forged too far ahead and we had to put on a few more revolutions to close up. "The wash, it will damage the banks!" he yelled. "They will make you pay. I give up my authority—I wipe my hands." Then we would slow down again and he would be quiet. We reached the Great Bitter Lake about eleven o’clock and there changed pilots. The Patagonians were only two hours ahead, and we simply tore through this part of the canal. I felt jolly nervous, I can tell you, for everything looked all the darker on account of the searchlight, and we were simply sticking on to the stern of "No. 2". If she or "No. 1" had stopped suddenly we should have been all in a heap. I expect "No. 1" had an English pilot on board, or a Norwegian, perhaps. Our Frenchman was paralysed with funk. We quieted down when we got into the narrow canal again. We had to tie up once to let a big British India mail steamer pass us, and did not get out of the canal till ten next morning. The Patagonians, we were told, had left three hours before; so after them we bustled, only stopping to let our pilots be taken off. "Steam for full speed" was signalled from "No. 1", and down below dived Mr. Chapman, our engineer, to superintend things in the stokehold.