"But I-- ah! where shall I be then? How do I know, once crossing the sea, whether I shall ever be able to return?" I had not the faintest idea where Russia might be, or what sort of a place I should find it; whether its rats are black, brown, or white, fierce as the Hamster, or gentle as Zibethicus. A feeling of misgiving came suddenly over me; one fear above all others depressed my heart, and unconsciously I uttered it aloud: "I wonder whether in Russia rats find plenty to eat!" The snub face of Oddity grew very grave at a question which he could not answer, and whose importance he felt. But light-hearted Bright-eyes quickly relieved our apprehensions. "If we are to judge of what is in Russia by what comes from it," he cried, "I should say that you have little to fear. I examined the cargo of a Russian ship once, and never did I see a finer collection of everything that could charm a rat. I say nothing of the furs,-- skins of all kinds of creatures, sables, black and white foxes, ermines, lynxes, hyaenas, bears, panthers, wolves, martens, white hares--" "Stop, stop!" I exclaimed, "we do not want any furs beyond those with which nature has adorned us." "There was copper, iron, talc, (a mineral resembling glass--)" "We don't care about them; no rat ever lived upon minerals." "Linen, flax, hemp, feathers--" "If there is nothing more nutritious to be had in Russia, why I'd rather stay at home," cried I, with a little vexation. "What do you say, then, to oil, both linseed and train-oil? to delicious honey, corn without end, soap, isinglass, and, to crown the whole, hogsheads upon hogsheads of-- tallow!" "Enough, enough!" I exclaimed with delight, "Russia is the country for me." CHAPTER XIII. HOW I SET OUT ON MY VOYAGE. When the passengers of the Nautilus went on board, the bright sun was glittering on the water, the whole river was full of life, covered with vessels of all kinds,-- the light boat, the lugger, the steamer, with her gaily-coloured paddle-boxes and long dark stream of smoke; the heavy coal-barge, scarcely moving at all, sunk down almost to a level with the water: and there were sounds of all sorts, both from the vessels and the shore-- puffing of steam, dipping of oars, creaking of rigging, ringing of bells, shouts and calls, and the sailors' musical "yo, heave, yo!" But when we went on board a few hours before, all was comparatively quiet, though the great pulse of life in London never quite ceases to be heard, even in the middle of the night. When we crept down to the edge of the shore, the yellow lamps were gleaming around, and the quiet stars twinkling above, and the young moon was looking down at her own image dimly reflected in the river. "Where is our vessel?" whispered I to Whiskerandos. "Yonder; don't you see her black hull?" "But how are we to get to her?" said I. nervously; "I have no great mind to swim."