down by the
old birds, an' the young uns never gettin' a taste o' the pizen!"

On Glass's death, he was succeeded in the leadership of the colony by
Green, the next oldest man, who now lived in the house of the late
founder of the settlement and hoisted the English ensign in his turn.
Green was a venerable-looking man, with a long white beard, and seemed,
from what Fritz could gather in his different conversations with the
islanders, to have successfully followed in his predecessor's footsteps.

Since the Duke of Edinburgh's visit in the _Galatea_, many other stray
men-of-war have occasionally called to see how the islanders were
getting on; but the principal trading communication they have has always
been with American whalers, some round dozen of which call at Tristan
yearly for the purposes of barter.

"An' I guess it's a downright shame," said Captain Brown, when
mentioning this latter fact to Fritz, "thet they don't fly the star-
spangled banner instead o' thet there rag of a British ensign! If it
weren't for us whalers, they'd starve fur want of wood to warm
themselves in winter; an', who'd buy their beef an' mutton an' fixins,
if we didn't call in, hey?"

"That's a conundrum, and I give it up," answered Fritz with a laugh.

"Ah, you're a sly coon," said the skipper, sailing away to his cabin.
"I guess it's 'bout time to bunk in, mister, so I'm off. Good-night!"

"Good-night!" returned Fritz, shutting up the log book and going his way
likewise to the small state room set apart for the use of himself and
his brother, where he found Eric asleep and snoring away soundly, the
tramping about ashore having completely tired out the lad.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"ALONE!"

The next morning, when Fritz got on deck, he found the ship diving and
courtesying to her anchor, while an ominous swell came rolling in past
her from the westward towards the beach. The surf, too, was breaking
against the boulders of the high rocky ramparts that came down sheer
from the cliff on the left-hand side of the bay, which was now to the
right of where Fritz was standing at the stern of the _Pilot's Bride_,
she having swung round during the night and now laying head to sea.

There was no wind to speak of, although there was evidently a change
brewing; still, any one with half an eye could see that the skipper was
quite prepared for any emergency, for the headsails of the vessel,
instead of being furled up, now hung loose, the gas