which most likely it was, that sits up aloft to look out for poor
"Jack."[6]

A moth, blown to our boat on the ocean, found shelter and a welcome
there. The dove we secretly worshipped.

With utmost confidence in our little craft, inspired by many thrilling
events, we now carried sail, blow high, blow low, till at times she
reeled along with a bone in her mouth quite to the mind of her mariners.
Thinking one day that she might carry more sail on the mast already
bending hopefully forward, and acting upon the liberal thought of sail,
we made a wide mistake, for the mainmast went by the board, under the
extra press and the foremast tripped over the bows. Then spars, booms,
and sails swung alongside like the broken wings of a bird, but were
grappled, however, and brought aboard without much loss of time. The
broken mast was then secured and strengthened by "fishes" or splints
after the manner in which doctors fish a broken limb.

Both of the masts were very soon refitted and again made to carry sail,
all they could stand; and we were again bowling along as before. We made
that day a hundred and seventy-five miles, one of our best days' work.

I protest here that my wife should not have cried "More sail! more
sail!" when as it has been seen the canoe had on all the sail that she
could carry. Nothing further happened to change the usual daily events
until we reached Barbadoes. Flying-fish on the wing striking our sails,
at night, often fell on deck, affording us many a toothsome fry. This
happened daily, while sailing throughout the trade-wind regions. To be
hit by one of these fish on the wing, which sometimes occurs, is no
light matter, especially if the blow be on the face, as it may cause a
bad bruise or even a black eye. The head of the flying-fish being rather
hard makes it in fact a night slugger to be dreaded. They never come
aboard in the daylight. The swift darting bill-fish, too, is a danger to
be avoided in the tropics at night. They are met with mostly in the
Pacific Ocean; therefore South Sea Islanders are loath to voyage during
the "bill-fish season."

As to the flight of these fishes, I would estimate that of the
flying-fish as not exceeding fifteen feet in height, or five hundred
yards of distance, often not half so much.

Bill-fish, darting like an arrow from a bow, have, fortunately for
sailors, not the power or do not rise much above the level of the waves,
and cannot dart further, say, than two hu