of delicious and most expensive aroma, and
our slant-eyed, dark-skinned servitors carried the pretty gear away, and
I read, continuing De Casseres:

"'Instinct wills, creates, carries on the work of the species. The
Intellect destroys, negatives, satirizes and ends in pure nihilism,
instinct creates life, endlessly, hurling forth profusely and blindly its
clowns, tragedians and comedians. Intellect remains the eternal
spectator of the play. It participates at will, but never gives itself
wholly to the fine sport. The Intellect, freed from the trammels of the
personal will, soars into the ether of perception, where Instinct follows
it in a thousand disguises, seeking to draw it down to earth.'"

CHAPTER XXVII

We are now south of Rio and working south. We are out of the latitude of
the trades, and the wind is capricious. Rain squalls and wind squalls
vex the _Elsinore_. One hour we may be rolling sickeningly in a dead
calm, and the next hour we may be dashing fourteen knots through the
water and taking off sail as fast as the men can clew up and lower away.
A night of calm, when sleep is well-nigh impossible in the sultry, muggy
air, may be followed by a day of blazing sun and an oily swell from the
south'ard, connoting great gales in that area of ocean we are sailing
toward--or all day long the _Elsinore_, under an overcast sky, royals and
sky sails furled, may plunge and buck under wind-pressure into a short
and choppy head-sea.

And all this means work for the men. Taking Mr. Pike's judgment, they
are very inadequate, though by this time they know the ropes. He growls
and grumbles, and snorts and sneers whenever he watches them doing
anything. To-day, at eleven in the morning, the wind was so violent,
continuing in greater gusts after having come in a great gust, that Mr.
Pike ordered the mainsail taken off. The great crojack was already off.
But the watch could not clew up the mainsail, and, after much vain sing-
songing and pull-hauling, the watch below was routed out to bear a hand.

"My God!" Mr. Pike groaned to me. "Two watches for a rag like that when
half a decent watch could do it! Look at that preventer bosun of mine!"

Poor Nancy! He looked the saddest, sickest, bleakest creature I had ever
seen. He was so wretched, so miserable, so helpless. And Sundry Buyers
was just as impotent. The expression on his face was of pain and
hopelessness, and as he pressed his abdomen he lumbered