The Signal Corps Arrives.
Jan. 29. The long lost signal corps arrived today. We gave them a great ovation; flags and streamers flying, bands playing and cheering from all the boats. They have had a hard time of it, having been fourteen days on the passage from Fortress Monroe. They ran out to sea in the first great storm, and the succession of storms has prevented them from getting in. They were well nigh famished when they arrived.
Good Water.
We are today luxuriating on good water, the first we have had for many days. Some of the boys last night got in the rear of the forbidden water casks, and by a vigorous use of a jackknife, succeeded in tapping a cask. Any quantity of canteens (mine among the rest), were filled with the contraband water, and if the thing is kept still today there will be a big haul tonight. Our fare is pretty short, and of a kind never dreamed of in the cabin of a first-class ocean steamer. Still it answers to keep us breathing, and perhaps that is as much as we can expect while on this excursion. We are thriving on a half ration of steamed pork and hardtack, with condensed sea water. The half ration of pork is a bountiful supply; it is so strong and oily a very little answers the purpose, and hardtack is the chief dependence. But for water, we shall do well enough so long as we can steal it. Coffee is entirely out of the question, for on this craft there is no chance for the cooks to make it in great quantities, although they do manage to make a small amount for the officers. None of us are allowed down in the fireroom, so that shuts us off from making coffee or scouse.
I suggested to a few of the faithful the plan of getting down on the bottom of the boat, under the boilers, and kindling a fire there and making some. They seemed to think that it would be rather a desperate undertaking, besides they would smoke themselves out before they had half accomplished their purpose.
