CHAPTER XXII. FROM HONOLULU TO AUSTRALIA.

The majority of our party, and among them Mrs. Anson and myself, remained upon the deck that evening chatting of the many beautiful things that we had seen and gazing in the direction of the fast-vanishing islands until they were at last lost to sight behind the mystic veil of the moonlight, and then we sought our stateroom to dream of the wonderful sights that were yet to come. There was now an ocean trip of 3,900 miles before us, before we should set foot on shore at New Zealand, and with never a stop between save a brief wait for the mail at the Samoan Islands. We were all pretty fair sailors by this time, having become used to the motion of the vessel, and so the long voyage had for us no terror, though we could not help but hope that the sea would remain as smooth as it had been up to that time, and that we should encounter no storms before reaching our destination.

How to keep the members of the two teams in anything like good condition for playing had been a problem with me for several days and one that I had spent some time in studying over during the first week of our voyage. The boys were all getting restless for lack of active exercise, and it was plain to me that something would have tot, be done or they would be in no condition when Australia was reached to do themselves or the country that, they represented justice.

"See here, George," I said to Wright the afternoon after we had left Honolulu, as we were sitting beside the steamer rail and looking across the blue expanse of waters, "this sort of a life will never do for American ballplayers who expect to exploit the beauties of the game in foreign lands. We shall be as stiff as old women and as fat as a lot of aldermen by the time we reach Australia unless we take exercise of some kind during the voyage. Can't we manage to get some cricket practice in some way?"

George thought we could do so, and a little later we held an interview with Capt. Morse, who was one of the best fellows that I ever sailed with. The result was on the following morning half a dozen sailors were set to work to roof over and wall in with canvas the rear end of the quarter deck promenade, upon the larboard side of the ship, which being done prevented the balls from going into the sea. This, when completed, gave us an enclosed cricket alley of about forty feet long, eight feet wide and ten feet high. The wickets were set in the extreme edge of this alley, the bowler facing the opening of the tent, twenty feet beyond it, so he had plenty of room to swing his arm and ample distance in which to break the ball in spite of the smooth decks and the rolling of the ship. A fifty-foot stretch of cocoa matting that Mr. Wright had thoughtfully provided gave a surface upon which to bowl almost as goad as genuine turf, and each day from that time on until the voyage was over several hours were put in by the boys at practice, the exercise proving to be just what was needed, the members of both teams, thanks to this, reaching Australia in good playing condition. After our cricket alley had been built the time did not hang as heavily on our hands as before, and between practice at the English national game, cards, music, conversation and reading, the days glided by both swiftly and pleasantly. The weather became very warm soon after we left Honolulu and many of the boys preferred sleeping, in the steamer chairs upon the deck rather than in the close staterooms that had been allotted to them. The decks at this time presented some queer sights, and the practical jokers in the party managed to extract a lot of fun at the expense of the sleepers. At 5:30 in the morning the slumberers were awakened by the sailors who started in to wash down the decks, when they would retire to their staterooms, doff their pajamas and return en natural to the vicinity to the smoker, where there were two perforated nozzles, and get their salt water baths. A sponge-off in fresh water followed and then a cup of black coffee and a soda cracker that was provided by the steward, and that stayed their stomachs until the welcome sound of the gong called us to breakfast.

We crossed the Equator some time between 1 and 2 o'clock on the morning of December 1st, and the occasion was celebrated by a musicale in the cabin under the supervision of Frank Lincoln, during the progress of which everybody who could help entertain in the least was pressed into service. A thrilling account of his own experiences during the Sepoy mutiny in India and his adventures during the celebrated siege of Lucknow, told by Gen. Strange, proved most interesting. Later on at the bow of the ship the whole party assembled and whiled the time away with song and story until Capt. Morse came himself to inform us that we had crossed the line and were now safe on the Southern Seas. I did not see the line nor did I even feel the bottom of the steamer scrape it as she went over, but it may be that owing to the darkness and the music I noticed neither of these things.

Early in the morning of December 2d it began blowing hard and by the time the noon hour had arrived the steamer was rolling about like a bass-wood log in a mountain torrent. There were some familiar faces missing from the tables at meal time that day and the stewards who waited upon those whose stomachs were still in eating order worked under difficulties, it being always a question of where they would bring up when they entered the cabin door. All that day:

It was rough, mighty rough, But the boys they stood by, And they ran on a bluff On the grub on the sly,

while the sick ones that lay in their staterooms were hoping and praying they'd die.

That night there was no comfort to be had on deck, which was wet and slippery, so a mock trial was held in the cabin that afforded considerable amusement, General Strange acting as the presiding judge and Sir James Willoughby as the prisoner at the bar. Charges had been preferred to the effect that Sir James was not a peer of the realm as he had represented himself, and that he was carrying concealed weapons in violation of the ship's law. John Ward acted as counsel for the defendant, Col. House as prosecuting attorney, and Jimmy Forgarty as court crier. The witnesses were all sworn not to tell the truth, and anything but the truth, and as a result there were such whoppers told as would have made the original Annanias turn green with envy. Thanks to the eloquence of John Ward, however, Sir James was acquitted with all honor, but that trial was one of the most amusing incidents of the voyage.

The spell of heavy weather lasted but a few hours, after which time the wind died away, the waves calmed down and the sun shone as brilliantly as ever. On the night of December 30th and while the weather still left much to be desired, we sighted the Northernmost Island of the Samoan group, which are famous by reason of the destruction of a fleet of United States cruisers anchored in one of the harbors by a tornado, a native insurrection that threatened to bring about war between the United States and Germany, and as the home and burial place of Robert Louis Stevenson, the famous writer. Ed Crane and several others of the party and myself were sitting on deck and under the shelter of an awning watching for a glimpse of the land that we all knew was not far away, when a little after 11 o'clock we ran suddenly under the lee of a mountainous ridge of land that loomed up like a huge shadow in the uncertain light, and almost immediately found ourselves in smooth water.

Walking toward the bow of the boat we reached there just as a green signal light was flashed from the bridge. Before us lay the land, and as we watched, a light twinkled on the shore nearly five miles away in answer to our signal. Slowly we steamed toward it, the signal lights flashing their messages at short intervals through the darkness until we reached the harbor, where we lay about half a mile from the land until a sloop and a dory reached us with the mail and passengers for Auckland. Of both the land and the natives we had but a glimpse, one of the latter, a red-headed and stalwart specimen of his race, clambering to the steamer's deck in order to get a receipt for the mail and a glassful of gin, both of which were given him by the purser. The former he stowed away somewhere in his scanty clothing and the latter he gulped down as though it were water, after which he swung himself over the rail and disappeared from sight in the darkness. A few moments later we had left Samoan Islands behind us and were again tossing on the foam-topped waves. Samoa was left not far behind, however, when the weather turned colder and before many hours had passed we were all glad to change our clothing of a tropical weight for garments that were much heavier, and to seek comfortable places in the cabin at night rather than the open deck. Even the cricket practice had begun to get monotonous, and we were all looking forward with pleasure to the time when we might once more feel the solid land beneath our feet.

It was with feelings of delight therefore that we heard early on the morning of December 9th that we were within sight of our destination and that we should be on shore, barring accident, by the noon hour. Standing on deck long before it was time for breakfast, we feasted our eyes on the green hills that were in plain sight, and then fell to wondering what sort of a welcome awaited us in the New Zealand seaport that we were rapidly nearing.

While at the breakfast table that morning Capt. Morse was presented by Gen. Strange, on behalf of the passengers, with a purse of $200 as a testimonial to his skill, kindness and uniform courtesy. The big Captain was taken by surprise, but he acknowledged the gift in a brief and manly speech that brought out a round of applause from the listeners.

The harbor at Auckland is reached by means of a winding passage walled in by hills of volcanic origin, and the bay itself is second only to that of Sydney in beauty, the sides of the high hills that wall it in being dotted here and there by pretty residences of white stone, surrounded by broad porticos and handsomely arranged grounds. The town was as quiet as a country funeral and this we marveled at until we were informed that we had lost a day from our calendar and that instead of being Saturday as we had thought, it was Sunday. Leigh Lynch, who had been detained at Sydney, had sent his cousin, Will Lynch, to meet us and as the steamer was made fast to the dock he came on board with a bouquet of flowers for the different members of the party. Several newspaper men, who followed him shortly afterward, expressed their regret that we had not arrived the day before, as then we could have played to some eight or ten thousand people. We had expected to remain in Auckland but a few hours and were therefore agreeably surprised when Capt. Morse informed us that the Alameda would remain there to coal until 5 o'clock the next afternoon.

After a good dinner at the Imperial Hotel, Mrs. Anson and myself, accompanied by others of the party, drove about Auckland and its environs and though a drizzling rain was falling we found much to admire and to wonder at in the vicinity of that New Zealand seaport. Soon after sundown the skies cleared and that evening we enjoyed ourselves in strolling about the streets, being determined to make the most of the short time on shore that was allotted to us.

The next day dawned bright and beautiful, and, after paying a visit to the City Hall, where we received a warm welcome from Mayor Devore, we proceeded to get into our base-ball uniforms and prepare for the game that was to take place that afternoon.

During the noon hour the local band came marching down the principal street to the dock, and shortly afterward it started at the head of a procession of carriages containing the ball players and two tally-hos containing the passengers of the Alameda, who attended the game as our guests. The enclosure in which we played that day was as handsome as any that we saw in New Zealand, the grounds being as level as a billiard table and the turf as smooth and soft as velvet. The game was one that was remarkable on both sides for its heavy batting, the ball rolling away over the smooth surface of the outfield in a way that almost broke the hearts of the fielders and at the same time gave them more exercise than they had had for weeks. The 4,500 people that witnessed the contest waxed enthusiastic over the heavy batting of the visitors from the "States" and also over the splendid fielding. Baldwin was in the box for us in this game and pitched great ball, Crane doing the twirling for the All-Americas. The Chicago: proved to be the winners and the score, 22 to 13, shows the cannonading done on both sides. This was a good game for both teams to play when the fact is taken into consideration that the players still had their sea legs on and simply shows the good condition that the cricket practice on board the ship had kept them in.

When the "Alameda" left the dock at Auckland that afternoon, a crowd of at least 2,000 people had assembled to see us off. With Sydney 1,243 miles distant we still had quite a voyage before us. That night we skirted the coast until after the darkness had fallen and watched the green hills that seemed to rise abruptly from the water's edge. When the morning came and we once more sought the deck there was no land in sight and nothing to be seen save the watery waste of the ocean that stretched away to the horizon on every side. We had a rough voyage from Auckland and were glad enough when, on the afternoon of December 14th, we sighted the Australian coast. At five o'clock that evening, after a hearty dinner, we again assembled on the deck to watch the headlands that grew each moment more and more distinct, and' soon afterward a tugboat came to meet us, bringing the pilot and Manager Leigh Lynch, the latter notifying us as soon as he could gain the deck of the great reception that was awaiting us at Sydney.

The harbor at Syndey is a delight to the eye, and as we steamed through the Heads with the white-winged gulls circling around our masts and the dolphins playing about our bow, we drank in the beautiful sight with greedy eyes. Several steamers laden with gentlemen and ladies, and with bands of music playing our national airs, steamed down the harbor to meet us, and long ere we reached the quay we were surrounded by a fleet of small craft gaily decked in colors and carrying crowds of cheering and kerchief-waving people. Our national colors were to be seen everywhere, even the lighthouse on the point being draped from top to bottom in clouds of red, white and blue bunting. The Stars and Stripes greeted the eye on every hand, and, let me say right here, that there is no place where the flag of our country appears so handsome to the eyes of an American as when it greets him in some foreign harbor. The storm of cheers that greeted us from the throats of the enthusiastic Sydneyites we answered as best we could, and the strain upon our vocal organs was something terrific. Viewed from the steamer's deck the city of Sydney and the beautiful harbor, surrounded by the high hills and bold headlands, presented a most entrancing picture. Clear down to the water's edge extend beautifully-kept private grounds and public parks, and these, with grandly built residences of white stone, with tower-capped walls and turrets that stand among the trees upon the hillside, glistening in the sunshine, made the whole picture seem like a scene from fairyland. At the quay there was another crowd of cheering people, and it was with difficulty that we made our way to the four-horse tally-ho coaches and to the Oxford Hotel, where quarters had been arranged for us.

The entrance to the Oxford Hotel, as well as the dining-room, was handsomely decorated in red, white and blue, evergreens and colored lanterns, and, after receiving a brief greeting from U. S. Consul Griffin, we retired to our rooms to prepare for the formal welcome to Australia that was to be given to us that night at the Royal Theater.

We were to spend some little time in Australia, and that we had fallen among friends was evident at once from the reception that had been accorded us. It was a relief to know that our voyage was at least over for a time and to feel the solid land once more beneath our feet, though we parted with Capt. Morse with regret, he having endeared himself to us all by the uniform kindness and courtesy that he had shown our party on the long ocean trip.