The storeship “Supply,” of our squadron having gotten ashore at the mouth of the Yang-tse on the “North bank,” we were suddenly despatched to her assistance, but discovered she had gotten afloat before the Mississippi reached her anchorage. Below Woosung we took in tow a large teak-wood junk, manned by Chinamen, and laden with coal, which we were to take aboard after getting over the bar. On the 18th, while waiting for the Susquehanna, the tide changed, the old junk drifted into us threatening to crush our quarter-boats, so she was cast off. The ancient pig-tail mariner who presided over her crew and helm, though conscious of drifting each moment on a dangerous bank, would not cast his anchor, because, as it was afterward believed, he thought the “fanquis” of the American steamer were going to tow him out to sea; the consequence was, the wind and sea having increased, the junk struck, and the tide soon falling, she was hard and fast. Boats were sent to her assistance, but the breakers prevented her from being reached, before a late hour of the night, when the officer sent with the boats seeing it impossible to get her off, and seven feet water in her hold, she was abandoned, and the crew brought aboard of the Mississippi. A dismal looking set of Celestial scape-graces they were, and presented a motley group as they sat around their pig-tail Falconer encased in an antique fur cape, jabbering about their escape. Before our boats were able to reach them, they had illuminated their cabin altar, burned perfumed sticks and paper, and chin-chinned Joss with great vim, but their stupid little tutelar deity not having responded to their prayers for assistance, they became indignant, tossed Mr. Joss, altar, perfumed sticks, and all, overboard, and betook themselves to the more sensible thing of building a raft of bamboos and their huge mat sails, with which they proposed, when the sea went down, to risk their safety. They were sent back to Shanghae by the pilot-boat, having subjected Uncle Sam to some three thousand dollars’ loss, besides nearly all of the crew of the boat, that slept aboard of her, had the “junk fever,” and one afterward died from it. The weather continuing very rough, the wind at times changing in five minutes to the opposite point of the compass, we laid under Saddle island for two or three days, when, with the “Supply” in tow, and in company with the now flag-ship, “Susquehanna,” on the 23d of May, we took our departure for the Loo-Choo islands. CHAPTER VII.