There have been many ugly ships afloat--the _Basuto_, for instance--but for sheer naked ugliness and brutality unashamed, the _Asiatic_ must be given the palm. She was built at some north-country port, and had a bow like a circular haystack. When she was light and a breeze was blowing, very nice handling was required to prevent her taking charge herself. But she had her good points: for one thing there was a decent compass, and she handled well in fine weather; for the rest she was comfortable enough at sea, but had not been well attended to as regards her upkeep, and wore a slovenly aspect altogether. This I at once set myself to remedy, and she presented a vastly different appearance the next time she came into Southampton. We of course were on the intermediate service, but when we arrived at Zanzibar for some reason there was great jollification going on, in which we participated. I gave a dinner and ball attended by every lady in the place, except two--the French consul’s wife and sister. They were absent, as the captain of a French man-of-war told me in strict confidence, because the unmarried sister’s dress was prettier than that of madam. The fact remains that we mustered, I think, eight ladies, and they were very well pleased. What was of more importance, however, to my mind, was a shooting match got up between the officers of the cable-laying ship, H.M.S. _London_, and ourselves. The _London_ found the rifles and the ammunition, and P. G. VanderByl, one of the lieutenants, was in charge of the _London_ team. I had known his people at the Cape for years past, and was afterwards shipmates with him in the old _Devastation_. We sailed up the harbour in one of the _London’s_ sailing cutters; they had several, and very fancifully named they were--after the names then in vogue on the front pages of waltz music. This one was called _Olga_, and she was navigated and conned by VanderByl as if she had been a battleship. It is, perhaps, needless to say that we were fairly well provided also for a picnic. I had in my team a great big hulking quartermaster whom I had seen do very well on the range at home, and I was relying upon him and some of my officers to make a good show. To make a long story short, the _Londons_ shot abominably, and we did rather worse, the cable ship being a bad third. My quartermaster was a distinct failure. The _Londons_ were delighted to find they were not beaten, for it turned out afterwards that their captain would have been vexed had they been. It was at this time that I made the acquaintance of Captain Ouless, R.N., who was navigator to the _London_. I always found navigating officers most willing to help a shipmaster with the time, or any information that may be at their disposal. I fancy it was on this voyage also that I first met H. M. Stanley. I was taken by one of the officers from the consulate, a nice fellow named Holmwood, into a large, low, fairly light room. A small white man was leaning