was
owing to the elevation of his spirits; and this again--for truth must
out--to a dram of Peruvian pisco, in guerdon for some kindness done,
secretly administered to him that morning by our mulatto steward. Now,
certainly, pisco does a deal of mischief in the world; yet seeing that,
in the present case, it was the means, though indirect, of rescuing a
human being from the most dreadful fate, must we not also needs admit
that sometimes pisco does a deal of good?

Glancing across the water in the direction pointed out, I saw some white
thing hanging from an inland rock, perhaps half a mile from the sea.

"It is a bird; a white-winged bird; perhaps a--no; it is--it is a
handkerchief!"

"Ay, a handkerchief!" echoed my comrade, and with a louder shout
apprised the captain.

Quickly now--like the running out and training of a great gun--the long
cabin spy-glass was thrust through the mizzen rigging from the high
platform of the poop; whereupon a human figure was plainly seen upon the
inland rock, eagerly waving towards us what seemed to be the
handkerchief.

Our captain was a prompt, good fellow. Dropping the glass, he lustily
ran forward, ordering the anchor to be dropped again; hands to stand by
a boat, and lower away.

In a half-hour's time the swift boat returned. It went with six and came
with seven; and the seventh was a woman.

It is not artistic heartlessness, but I wish I could but draw in
crayons; for this woman was a most touching sight; and crayons, tracing
softly melancholy lines, would best depict the mournful image of the
dark-damasked Chola widow.

Her story was soon told, and though given in her own strange language
was as quickly understood; for our captain, from long trading on the
Chilian coast, was well versed in the Spanish. A Cholo, or half-breed
Indian woman of Payta in Peru, three years gone by, with her young
new-wedded husband Felipe, of pure Castilian blood, and her one only
Indian brother, Truxill, Hunilla had taken passage on the main in a
French whaler, commanded by a joyous man; which vessel, bound to the
cruising grounds beyond the Enchanted Isles, proposed passing close by
their vicinity. The object of the little party was to procure tortoise
oil, a fluid which for its great purity and delicacy is held in high
estimation wherever known; and it is well known all along this part of
the Pacific coast. With a chest of clothes, tools, cooking utensils, a
rude apparatus for trying out