into the corner of my right eye.

"You seem to be in a warm corner there," hailed Smellie; "but if you can
hold on until we round this point I'll come and relieve you."

"No, thanks, I would very much rather you would continue to con the
ship," I replied.

A minute or two later we rounded the point referred to, and, the creek
widening out considerably, we began to feel the true breeze, when the
schooner, even under the short and ill-set canvas we had been able to
give her, at once increased her speed to about six knots. At the same
time, however, she began to "gripe" most villainously, and with the helm
hard a-weather it was as much as I could possibly do to keep her from
running ashore among the bushes on our starboard hand. The people in
the cabin were still pertinaciously blazing away through the companion
doors at me, and doing some remarkably good shooting, too, taking into
consideration the fact that they could only guess at my whereabouts; but
I was just then far too busy to pay much attention to them. At length,
fearing that, when we got a little lower down and felt the full strength
of the breeze, the schooner would, in spite of all my efforts, fairly
run away with me, I hailed Smellie, and, briefly explaining the
situation to him, asked him to either give her the fore staysail or else
come aft and trice up the tack of the mainsail. He chose the latter
alternative, as leaving the craft under canvas easily manageable by one
hand, and came aft to effect the alteration, hurriedly explaining that
he would relieve me as soon as possible; but that there was still some
difficult navigation ahead which he wanted to see the schooner safely
through.

He triced the tack of the sail close up to the throat of the gaff, and
was about to hurry forward again, when the schooner sheering round a
bend into a new reach, my attention was suddenly attracted by something
ahead and on our lee bow at a distance of perhaps half a mile.

"What is that away there on our lee bow, sir?" I exclaimed; "is it not
a craft of some sort?"

Smellie jumped up on the rail to get a better view, and at the same
moment a pistol shot rang out from the skylight, the bullet evidently
flying close past him. He took not the slightest notice of the shot,
but stood there on the rail with his hand shading his eyes, intently
examining the object we were rapidly nearing.

"It is a brig," said he, "and unless I am very greatly mistaken--but no,
it