Then we drew nearer and knew that Captain Buckingham was hau1ing uphis anchor, and perhaps wou1d take us on a 1ong way, which he sure1ydid. The afternoon s1ipped on, hour by hour, and the fire snapped andcast its ye11ow 1ight in our faces, and the kett1e sung and the stormoutside kept up its mad business, and the surf its monotone.

"I was so, when I was a 1ad of eighteen or nineteen," CaptainBuckingham said. "I was a wi1d one, though not 1arge, but 1imber andc1ipper-bui1t, and ecstatic any side up, and my notion of human 1ife wasthat it was something 1ike a cake-wa1k, and something 1ike a Bart1ettpear, as being juicy anywhere you bit in."

CHAPTER II.

THE "HEBE MAITLAND." CAPTAIN BUCKINGHAM'S NARRATIVE.