numbers as we lay at our anchorage for several hours, quarantined on account of yellow-fever at Rio. 13th to 15th April.—No birds of any kind. 16th April.—Whilst in the Bay of Biscay a Stone-chat from the mainland came on board, and remained an hour or two in the rigging. Whales were disporting themselves about the ship, the sea being very calm, but there was a remarkable absence of bird-life. Indeed, we saw nothing more till we reached the English coast. Notes made on the Return Voyage from Plymouth to Auckland, by way of the Cape of Good Hope. (Supplementary to Article read on 13th December, 1893.) We left Plymouth in the R.M.S. “Doric” at 2 p.m. on Saturday, the 27th January, 1894, with a stiff breeze blowing from the S.W. We were fortunate enough to be again under the command of Captain Kempson, transferred from the “Coptic.” This head-wind afterwards changed to W.N.W., and increased in force till it had become a gale in the Bay of Biscay. We had a bad night on the 28th, but the morning of the 29th broke fine, with a light breeze from N.W. to W., and a comparatively calm sea. The Sea-gulls (Larus marinus) which had followed us out from Plymouth, and had stood by us all through the storm in the Bay of Biscay, now suddenly disappeared, and when we were about eighty miles from the Spanish coast there was not a wing to be seen of any kind, the only sign of animation being the occasional appearance of a school of small porpoises, plunging madly through the sea. Till our arrival at Teneriffe, at noon on the 1st February, we saw nothing more; but on reaching our anchorage at Santa Cruz, with the Peak, more than 15,000ft. in height, full in view, we were again visited by Larus marinus; and till about noon on the following day we were attended on our voyage by the Grey-backed Gull (Larus cachinnans). For the rest of the day there was not a sign of life on the dreary waste of waters. This may be in a measure due to the season of the year. The last time I traversed this part of the ocean it was summer, and thousands of “Portuguese men-of-war” (Physalia) were floating on the surface of the water or dancing on the waves. On taking one of these curious little animals on board with a bucket, it caused much amusement among the passengers by its power of giving off, on being touched, a peculiar electrical shock. The body secretes an acrid fluid, and the long blue threads or filaments cling firmly to the hand on the slightest touch, and sting like nettles.