down from the stars showed not a break upon the surface of Magdalena
Bay. On shore, nothing moved.

"Quiet there, forward," called Moran to the shrill-voiced coolies.

The succeeding stillness was profound. All on board listened intently.
The water dripped like the ticking of a clock from the "Bertha
Millner's" stern, which with the rising of the bow had sunk almost to
the rail. There was no other sound.

"Strange," muttered Moran, her brows contracting.

Charlie broke the silence with a wail: "No likee, no likee!" he cried at
top voice.

The man had gone suddenly green; Wilbur could see the shine of his eyes
distended like those of a harassed cat. As he, Moran, and Wilbur stood
in the schooner's waist, staring at each other, the smell of punk came
to their nostrils. Forward, the coolies were already burning joss-sticks
on the fo'castle head, kowtowing their foreheads to the deck.

Moran went forward and kicked them to their feet and hurled their
joss-sticks into the sea.

"Feng shui! Feng shui!" they exclaimed with bated breaths. "The Feng
shui no likee we."

Low in the east the horizon began to blacken against the sky. It was
early morning. A watch was set, the Chinamen sent below, and until
daybreak, when Charlie began to make a clattering of tins in the galley
as he set about preparing breakfast, Wilbur paced the rounds of
the schooner, looking, listening, and waiting again for that slow,
horrifying lift. But the rest of the night was without incident.

After breakfast, the strangely assorted trio--Charlie, Moran, and
Wilbur--held another conference in the cabin. It was decided to move the
schooner to the other side of the bay.

"Feng shui in disa place, no likee we," announced Charlie.

"Feng shui, who are they?"

Charlie promptly became incoherent on this subject, and Moran and Wilbur
could only guess that the Feng shui were the tutelary deities that
presided over that portion of Magdalena Bay. At any rate, there were
evidently no more shark to be caught in that fishing-ground; so sail
was made, and by noon the "Bertha Millner" tied up to the kelp on the
opposite side of the inlet, about half a mile from the shore.

The shark were plentiful here and the fishing went forward again as
before. Certain of these shark were hauled aboard, stunned by a blow on
the nose, and their fins cut off. The Chinamen packed these fins away in
separate kegs. Eventually they would be sent to China.

Two or three da