It was a beautiful day in autumn--the most glorious period of the year in Japan--when Takezawa and a distinguished company assembled on board the steamer, to give her a new name, and to send her forth finally as a Japanese steamer. The ship looked brave enough as she lay in the dock--ports newly painted, brass-work shining, yards squared, and half buried in bunting. At the mizen floated the empire flag of Japan--a red sun on a white ground--and as Takezawa gazed fore and aft, and his eyes rested on brightness, cleanliness, and order everywhere, he wondered to himself how he could have been such a fool as to stand out so long against the possession of such a treasure, merely on the grounds of its not being Japanese. A fair daughter of one of his partners dashed a cup of "sake" against the bows of the vessel, and the newly named "Lightning Bird" dashed forward into the ocean. Her head was made straight for Yokohama (Takezawa had seen the Englishmen at the wheel manipulate her in that course on her trial trip, so he knew she couldn't go wrong). And straight she went. Every one was delighted; sweetmeats and wine were served round, whilst on the quarterdeck a troupe of the best "Geyshas" or singing-girls in Yedo mingled their shrill voices and their guitar notes with the sound of the fresh morning breeze through the rigging. The engines worked magnificently: coals were poured into the furnaces by the hundredweight, so as to keep a good uniform thick cloud of smoke coming from the funnels--if the smoke lacked intensity for a minute, Takezawa, fearful that something was wrong, bellowed forth orders for more coal to be heaped on, so that in a quarter of an hour's time the "Lightning Bird" consumed as much fuel as would have served a P. and O. steamer for half a day. On she went, everybody pleased and smiling, everything taut and satisfactory. Straight ahead was Treaty Point--a bold bluff running out into the sea. The "Lightning Bird" was bound for Yokohama--Yokohama lies well behind Treaty Point--but at the pace she was going it was very apparent that, unless a sudden and rapid turn to starboard was made, she would run, not into Yokohama, but into Treaty Point. The singing and feasting proceeded merrily on deck, but Takezawa was uneasy and undecided on the bridge. The helm was put hard a-port, the brave vessel obeyed, and leapt on straight for the line of rocks at the foot of the Point, over which the waves were breaking in cascades of foam. But the gods would not see a vessel, making her first run under Japanese auspices, maltreated and destroyed by simple waves and rocks; so, just in time to save an ignominious run aground, the helm was put hard over, fresh fuel was piled on to the furnaces, and by barely half a ship's length the "Lightning Bird" shaved the Point, and stood in straight for Yokohama bay.