incongruity of the thing tickled me immensely; but I laughed more heartily still when on going below I was hailed as “Wot cher, chummy; ‘ow yer hoppin’ up?” by another barbarian from the wilds of Spitalfields, who, from the secure shelter of his cats’-meat round in ’Oxton, had got adrift, and, after being severely buffeted by tempestuous ill-fortune, had finally found himself in the comfortable old chance, a haven of rest in the midst of storms.  There were sixteen white men on board the chance, including the skipper, drawn as usual from various European and American sources, the rest of her large crew of over forty all told being made up of Maories and half-breeds.  One common interest united them, making them the jolliest crowd I ever saw—­their devotion to their commander.  There was here to be found no jealousy of the Maories being officers and harpooners, no black looks or discontented murmuring; all hands seemed particularly well satisfied with their lot in all its bearings; so that, although the old tub was malodorous enough to turn even a pretty strong stomach, it was a pleasure to visit her cheerful crowd for the sake of their enlivening society.

Of course, under our present circumstances, with the debris of our late enormous catch filling every available space and loudly demanding attention, we had little time to spare for ship visiting.  Some boat or other from the two ships was continually alongside of us, though, for until the gale abated they could not get out to the grounds again, and time hung heavy on their hands.  The TAMERLANE’s captain avoided Paddy as if he were a leper—­ hated the sight of him, in fact, as did most of his confreres; but our genial skipper, whose crew were every whit as well treated and contented as the CHANCE’s, and who therefore needed not to dread losing them, met the little philanthropist on the most friendly terms.

The first fine weather, which came four days after our arrival, both our harbour mates cleared out.  Characteristically, the chance was away first, before daylight had quite asserted itself, and while the bases of the cliffs and tops of the rocks were as yet hidden in dense wreaths of white haze.  Paddy lolled on the taff-rail near the wheel, which was held by an immense half-breed, who leant back and carried on a desultory, familiar conversation with his skipper; the rest of the crew were scattered about the decks, apparently doing what they liked in any manner they chose.  The anchor was being catted, sails going up, and yards being trimmed; but, to observers like us, no guiding spirit was noticeable.  It seemed to work all right, and the old ark herself looked as if she was as intelligent as any of them; but the sight was not an agreeable one to men accustomed to discipline.  The contrast when the Tamerlane came along an hour or so after was emphatic.  Every man at his post; every order carried out with the precision of clockwork; the captain pacing the