contains. But what _can_ they do for seafaring folks in
the moon, if what you tell me, Captain Gar'ner, is the truth?"

"They must do without them. I fancy oil and skins are not very much in
demand among the moonites, Stephen. What's that, off here to the eastward,
eh? East-and-by north-half-east, or so?"

"I see what you mean, sir. It does look wonderfully like a sail, and a
sail pretty well surrounded by ice, too!"

There was no mistake in the matter. The white canvass of a vessel was
plainly visible, over a vast breadth of field-ice, a little to the
northward of the island that lay directly opposite the cove. Although the
sails of this stranger were spread, it was plain enough he was closely
beset, if not actually jammed. From the first instant he saw the strange
craft, Roswell had not a doubt of her character. He felt convinced it was
his late consort, the Sea Lion of the Vineyard, which had found her way to
the group by means of some hint that had fallen into Daggett's hands, if
not by a positive nautical instinct. So great had been his own success,
however, and so certain did he now feel of filling up in due season, that
he cared much less for this invasion on his privacy than he would have
done a fortnight earlier. On the contrary, it might be a good thing to
have a consort in the event of any accident occurring to his own vessel.
From the moment, then, that Gardiner felt certain of the character of the
strange sail, his policy was settled in his own mind. It was to receive
his old acquaintance with good will, and to help fill him up too, as soon
as he had secured his own cargo, in order that they might sail for home in
company. By his aid and advice, the other schooner might save a week in
time at that most important season of the year; and by the experience and
exertions of his people, a whole month in filling up might readily be
gained.

All thoughts of climbing the peak were at once abandoned; and, in fifteen
minutes after the sail was seen, Roswell and Stephen both came panting
down to the house; so much easier is it to descend in this world than to
mount. A swivel was instantly loaded and fired as a signal; and, in half
an hour, a boat was manned and ready. Roswell took command himself,
leaving his second mate to look after the schooner. Stimson went with his
captain, and in less than one hour after he had first seen the strange
sail, our hero was actually pulling out of the cove, with a view to go to
h