the name of the redoubtable Bully mentioned
nowadays, yet it is scarcely thirty years ago since his name was a power
all over the wide Pacific, from Manila to Valparaiso. In those days did
a German trading-vessel in the Islands sight a white-painted brig with
yacht-like lines and carrying Cunningham's patent topsails, the Teutonic
skipper cracked on all his ship could stagger under, and thanked heaven
when he saw the stranger hull-down; for Bully, with his _fidus achates_,
the almost equally notorious Captain Ben Peese, had a penchant for
boarding Dutchmen and asking for a look at their chronometers, and in
his absent-minded way, taking these latter away with him.

And in Sydney, and Melbourne especially, people will remember the gay,
dashing, black-whiskered Yankee captain who, in the sixties, came to
these ports in a flash clipper ship, where he spent his money royally,
flirting--alas! if he had but stopped at that--with every accessible
woman of high or low degree--provided she was fair to look upon--and
playing the devil generally in every known and unknown manner, and who
then sailed gaily away to China, neglecting to attend to many little
financial matters in connection with the refitting of his ship, and
leaving the affections of a number of disconsolate beauties in a very
bad state of repair.

The writer happened to know the gentleman well, and although it is now
sixteen years since his body was thrown to the sharks among the lagoons
of the Marshall Group, it is not too late to rescue his memory from much
undeserved obloquy. Many a fancifully embroidered tale has been told and
printed of the terrible "massacres" he perpetrated among the inhabitants
of the South Seas. These massacres were purely apocryphal and only
worthy of appearing--as they did in the first place--in an unreliable
daily paper in San Francisco.

A man's true character is generally revealed by sudden misfortune. The
writer sailed with Hayes for nearly two years, and was with him when,
perhaps, the heaviest stroke of ill-luck he ever experienced befell
him. In March of 1874 his brig _Leonora_ ground herself to death on
the jagged coral of Strong's Island, in the Caroline Group, and "Bully"
seemed for the nonce a broken man. But few people knew that beneath
that gay, laughing, devil-may-care exterior there lay a whole world of
dauntless courage and iron resolution; that six months after the brig
was destroyed he would, by unwearying toil and the