It was now nearly three months since the Alert arrived at Santa Barbara, and we began to expect her daily.  About half a mile behind the hide-house was a high hill, and every afternoon, as soon as we had done our work, some one of us walked up to see if there was a sail in sight, coming down before the regular trades.  Day after day we went up the hill, and came back disappointed.  I was anxious for her arrival, for I had been told by letter, that the owners in Boston, at the request of my friends, had written to Captain Thompson to take me on board the Alert, in case she returned to the United States before the Pilgrim; and I, of course, wished to know whether the order had been received, and what was the destination of the ship.  One year, more or less, might be of small consequence to others, but it was everything to me.  It was now just a year since we sailed from Boston, and, at the shortest, no vessel could expect to get away under eight or nine months, which would make our absence two years in all.  This would be pretty long, but would not be fatal.  It would not necessarily be decisive of my future life.  But one year more might settle the matter.  I might be a sailor for life; and although I had pretty well made up my mind to it before I had my letters from home, yet, as soon as an opportunity was held out to me of returning, and the prospect of another kind of life was opened to me, my anxiety to return, and, at least, to have the chance of deciding upon my course for myself, was beyond measure.  Beside that, I wished to be ``equal to either fortune,’’ and to qualify myself for an officer’s berth, and a hide-house was no place to learn seamanship in.  I had become experienced in hide-curing, and everything went on smoothly, and I had many opportunities of becoming acquainted with the people, and much leisure for reading and studying navigation; yet practical seamanship could only be got on board ship, therefore I determined to ask to be taken on board the ship when she arrived.  By the first of August we finished curing all our hides, stored them away, cleaned out our vats (in which latter work we spent two days, up to our knees in mud and the sediments of six months’ hide-curing, in a stench which would drive a donkey from his breakfast), and got all in readiness for the arrival of the ship, and had another leisure interval of three or four weeks.  I spent these, as usual, in reading, writing, studying, making and mending my clothes, and getting my wardrobe in complete readiness in case I should go on board the ship; and in fishing, ranging the woods with the dogs, and in occasional visits to the presidio and mission.  A good deal of my time was passed in taking care of a little puppy, which I had selected from thirty-six that were born within three days of one another at our house.  He was a fine, promising pup, with four white paws, and all the rest of his body of a dark brown.  I built a little kennel for him, and kept him fastened there, away from the other dogs, feeding and disciplining him myself.  In a few weeks I brought him into complete subjection, and he grew nicely, was much attached to me, and bade fair to be one of the leading dogs on the beach.  I called him Bravo, and all I regretted at the thought of leaving the beach was parting from him and the Kanakas.