we met and
passed on, we heard a shrill and unmistakable '_cock-a-doodle-doo!_'
which we remembered with indignation for many a day. Tall and stately
she looked, with her flags a-peak and everything in trim: yards all
aloft, and squared to an inch and her sails rolled up without crease
like the dummy covers on the booms of a King's yacht. A gallant ship,
and a credit to the flag she flew.

We passed many floating tree trunks and branches in the river. The
snows had come away from the Sierras, and there was spate on
Sacramento. We rode over one of the 'snags' with a shudder, and all
our jack-easy Pilot said was, "Guess that'll take some 'f th' barnacles
off 'r battum, bettr'r a week's sojerin' with the patent scrubber!"
All the same he took very good care that his own craft rode free of
obstruction.

Rounding a bend, we came in sight of our rendezvous, but Port Costa
showed little promise from the water-side, though the sight of our old
friends, the _Crocodile_, the _Peleus_, and the _Drumeltan_, moored at
the wharf cheered us. Two or three large mills, with a cluster of
white houses about, composed the township; a large raft-like ferry
which carried the 'Frisco mail trains bodily across the river
contributed to its importance, but there was nothing else about the
place to excite the remark of even an idle 'prentice boy.

A little way up-stream was a town, indeed; a town of happy memories.
Benicia, with its vineyards and fruit gardens, and the low, old houses,
alone perhaps in all California to tell of Spain's dominion. A town of
hearty, hospitable folk, unaffected by the hustle of larger cities; a
people of peace and patience, the patience of tillers of the vine.

Off Martinez, where the river is wide, we canted ship, and worked back
to Port Costa against the tide. We made fast at the ballast wharf, and
our borrowed crew, having completed their job, laid aft to receive the
Captain's blessing, and a silver dollar to put in their pockets. Then
they boarded the tug, and were soon on their way back to 'Frisco.

When Jones came from the wheel, he had great tales to tell of the
attentions the ladies had paid him. He plainly wished us to understand
that he'd made an impression, but we knew that was not the way of it,
for Old Niven had told Eccles that the pretty one was engaged to be
married to the ship's butcher, down in 'Frisco, a fairy Dutchman of
about fifteen stone six.

XIII

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In a Sun