the house, in cheerful confidence. They have
lost nothing by the encounter, and those inside will still smilingly
receive them--as indeed they do.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

A SHIP WITHOUT SAILORS.

Among the vessels lying in the harbour of San Francisco is one athwart
whose stern is lettered the name _El Condor_.

She is a ship of small dimensions--some five or six hundred tons--
devoted to peaceful commerce, as can be told by certain peculiarities of
rig and structure, understood by the initiated in nautical affairs.

The name will suggest a South American nationality--Ecuadorian,
Peruvian, Bolivian, or Chilian--since the bird after which she has been
baptised is found in all these States. Columbia and the Argentine
Confederation can also claim it.

But there is no need to guess at the particular country to which the
craft in question belongs. The flag suspended over her taffrail
declares it, by a symbolism quite intelligible to those who take an
interest in national insignia.

It is a tricolour--the orthodox red, white, and blue--not, as with the
French, disposed vertically, but in two horizontal bands; the lower one
crimson red, the upper half-white, half-blue--the last contiguous to the
staff, with a single five-pointed star set centrally in its field. This
disposition of colours proclaims the ship that carries them to be
Chilian.

She is not the only Chilian craft in the harbour of San Francisco.
Several others are there showing the same colours; brigs, barques,
schooners, and ships. For the spirited little South American Republic
is as prosperous as enterprising, and its flag waves far and wide over
the Pacific. With its population of skilled miners, it had been among
the first of foreign states in sending a large representative force to
"cradle" the gold _placers_ of California, and not only are its ships
lying in the bay, but its _guasos_ and _gambusinos_ in goodly number
tread the streets of the town; while many of the dark-eyed damsels, who
from piazzas and balconies salute the passer-by with seductive smiles,
are those charming little Chilenas that make havoc with the heart of
almost every Jack-tar who visits Valparaiso.

On the ship _El Condor_ we meet not much that can be strictly called
Chilian; little besides the vessel herself and the captain commanding
her. Not commanding her sailors: since there are none upon her hailing
from Chili or elsewhere. Those who brought the _Condor_ into San