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there were crates and cages piled up so close to the port that I began to realize we were not going to be out of the sight or sound of our charges for a moment.

A huge crowd was down to see the ship off, and all our friends were there too - the Henrys, Browns, Davises, Tucks, Holmbergs, Cinaghis, Grethers, Antelo, Copley, etc.  We sailed at eight, and wearily ate dinner and went to bed.

But not to sleep.  Night was cold and raw, and we closed our porthole, but even so the calls of various small beasts and birds mingled with the creaking and groaning of the ship.  A peculiar rustling in the cabin itself bothered me for some time, and I finally sat up in bed, looked toward the door, and in the eerie light that came in through the ventilators I saw a procession of enormous turtles slowly forming and spreading out to cover the stateroom floor.  Tom Davis' turtles, delivered to us at the last moment in a burlap sack, were exploring.  they were bigger than dinner plates, long-necked, [[strikethrough]] pointed [[/strikethrough]] with pointed noses, and they looked to me at the moment like something out of an Inferno.  I woke Bill, who was even more tired than I was, and twice as cross.  He protested that the turtles wouldn't do any harm, let 'em walk around till morning, but I had visions of the getting behind trunks and under bureaus, and not being found until they began to smell bad, and finally persuaded him to get up and put them back in the sack, and furthermore to tie the sack with a piece of string.

June 10 - At Sea

The day was cold and rough.  Both Bills worked all day straightening out cages, and getting s semblance of order in the menagerie.  At night it was too rough to sleep - the rocking motion threw us alternately against the wall, and the outside edge of the bed.  Furniture slid around and crashing noises made us listen for trouble in the animal quarters, but no damage was done except to Bill's brand-new bottles of bay rum, which upset and ran all over the floor.

June 11 - At Sea

Weather sill cold and rough.  Half the passengers have not yet put in an appearance.  The animal quarters are beginning to take shape, and Frances and I were allowed to feed the baby ostriches, the two big ones, the screamers, and the Patagonian cavies.

It is still difficult to get any sleep.  This morning I had just dozed off, when at seven o'clock the steward stuck his head in the door to say that a bird was out.  Bill trotted out on deck with a large bath towel over his arm, caught one of the screamers and put it back in its cage.