ar as man may judge of a ship in port--nearly new, and well
found in gear and canvas, which the riggers had rove off and bent. Her
cargo of grain was nearly in, and there would be nothing much to do in
the way of hard work. Still, I couldn't make up my mind. Something
seemed to prevent me liking the prospect, so I went on up to Oakland to
visit some friends, and on the way back, long after dark, stopped again
at the dock for another look at her. And this time I saw what was
needed to ease my mind and decide me. You know as well as I do that
rats quit a ship bound for the bottom, and their judgment is always
right, though no one knows why. And I reasoned that if rats swarm into
an outbound ship she would have a safe passage. Well, that's what they
were doing. Wharf rats, a foot long--hundreds of them--going up the
mooring-chains, the cable to the dock, the lines, the fenders, and the
gangway, some over the rail, others in through the mooring-chocks. The
watchman was quiet, perhaps asleep; so, perhaps, every rat that went
aboard got into the hold. I signed on next morning.

"Nothing occurred aboard that ship except the usual trouble of breaking
in a new crew, until we'd got down to about forty south, when the
skipper brought up a rat-trap with a big, healthy rat in it. He was a
mild-mannered little man, and a rat and dog fight marked the limits of
his sporting nature. That was what he was after. He had a little
black-and-tan terrier, about the size of the rat, and there was a
lively time around the deck for a while, until the rat got away. He put
up a stiff fight with the dog, but finally saw his chance, and slipped
into the forward companion of the cabin; then, I suppose, he found the
hole he'd come up. But the dog had nipped him once, it seemed, for the
rat left a tiny trail of blood after him. As for the dog, he nearly had
a fit in his anger and disappointment, and when the skipper picked him
up he nipped him, too. It was only a little wound on the skipper's
thumb, but the dog's teeth were sharp, and the blood had come. The
skipper gave him a licking, and the work went on.

"The dog was a spirited little fellow, and used to sit on the skipper's
shoulder when we were going about, or wearing ship, or handling canvas,
and he would bark and yelp and swear at us, bossing each job as though
he knew all about it. It kept the men good-humored, and we all liked
the little beast. But from the time of the licking he moped, and
f