"It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good," says the old proverb, the truth of which was exemplified in this instance. If the captain lost his milk, the crew gained a plentiful supply of fresh meat by the accident, faring sumptuously for many days afterwards on roast beef and all sorts of delicate dishes which Cuffee concocted out of the carcass of the unfortunate animal. "I wouldn't have lost her for twenty pounds!" said Captain Miles on the poop later on, when he and the first mate were talking over the strange way in which the thing all happened. "Humph!" observed Mr Marline slyly in his dry way; "I think she gave you one or two on account before she performed the happy despatch, eh?" "Funny dog!" exclaimed Captain Miles, giving him a dig in the ribs by way of acknowledging the allusion to the thumps poor Brindle had treated him to, before she came on board and after; and, there, the matter ended, as far as everybody was concerned, the steward recovering from his fainting fit, and the eyes of Davis the second mate being none the worse as it turned out for their deluge of hot pea-soup, while the damages in the cabin were soon repaired. Only the poor cow came to grief! CHAPTER SEVEN. AMONGST THE ISLANDS. In spite of all Captain Miles' endeavours to effect an early start from Saint Vincent, we were not really able to weather the island that evening until many hours after our anchor was tripped and all plain sail made. This was not due, however, either to the delay caused in hoisting the obstreperous cow on board or to the embarrassing episode that occurred after she was shipped. It was entirely owing to the failure of our moving spirit the wind; for we lay becalmed until morning under the lee of the giant Souffriere, whose dark shadow prevented the land breeze from reaching the vessel, while the next day was far advanced before we could gain an offing so as to take advantage of the light airs that then sprang up from seaward. But, then, the _Josephine_, bellying out her canvas, bore away on her voyage. The wide gulf of sea which we were traversing--named after the aboriginal Caribs who ruled over its domain lang syne, and hedged in from the Atlantic Ocean by the semicircular group of the Lesser Antilles, or "Windward Islands" of the West Indies--presents great difficulties to the navigators of sailing ships; as, while the wind throughout its extent blows almost constantly in one direction, a series of cross currents set in another, making it a hard task for even experienced seamen to preserve a straight course towards any particular point when going to windward, the result of which is that "the longest way round," as in other matters pertaining to shore life, is frequently "the shortest way home!"