arm, and said, “There it is,” pointing in its direction.  We were then 150 miles off!  We met the Wolf again on the 5th, and travelled in her company during the remainder of that day and the next two, stopping as usual for communication and the sending of stores to us in the evenings just before sunset.  Often when the ship stopped Lieutenant Rose would go aboard the Wolf, another Lieutenant boarding us and remaining in charge during his absence.  The Wolf on this occasion told us she had sunk the American sailing vessel John H. Kirby from America to East London with a cargo of four hundred motor-cars on board, when two days from her destination, the officers and crew being taken on board the Wolf.  Many people in South Africa would have to dispense with their motor joy-rides at Christmas in consequence.

The evening of December 7th was the last occasion we saw the Wolf for many days.  The two ships now shaped a course for the Brazilian Island of Trinidad, where it was understood the Wolf would coal from her prize, and with her spend the Christmas holidays.

CHAPTER VII

CHRISTMAS ON THE “IGOTZ MENDI”

It must not be supposed that the life of the prisoners on the Igotz Mendi in any way approximated to that of passengers on an ordinary passenger ship.  To begin with, there were no ship’s servants to wait on us with the exception of the Spanish steward, a youth who “waited” at table and excelled in breaking ship’s crockery.  Often he poured the coffee over us, or into our pockets, instead of into our cups, and on one occasion, during a heavier roll than usual, he fell down in the middle of the saloon while carrying a tureen full of soup.  It went flying over the saloon and some of its occupants, so our soup ration was short that day.

If the cabins were to be kept clean, we had to do it ourselves.  Every morning saw the occupants sweeping out and cleaning up their cabins, as no ship’s servant ever entered them.  The water supply was very limited, and had to be fetched by ourselves—­no matter what the weather—­sometimes from the fore peak and sometimes from a pump near the ship’s galley.  Washing water and drinking water were served out twice a day, at 8 a.m. and 4 p.m., an ordinary water-can being the allowance of the former, and a water-bottle that of the latter.  The supply of washing water was very inadequate, and no hot water was ever available.  After washing ourselves, we had to wash our clothes in the same water—­for there was of course no laundry on board—­and then the cabin floor after that.  By this time the water was mud.  It was impossible to have a proper bath all the time we were on board, for there was no water supply in the bathroom, and it was kept in an extremely dirty condition.  “Laundry work” was usually done by the prisoners after breakfast, and lines were rigged on any available part of the ship to dry the clothes.  It was a sight for the gods to see the military officers presiding at their washtubs on deck, and then hanging out their washing.  On fine days with a big wash the array of drying garments in various parts of the ship was quite imposing.