e
_Spray_ passed Thieves' Bay two canoes had put out and followed in her
wake, and there was no disguising the fact any longer that I was
alone.

Now, it is well known that one cannot step on a tack without saying
something about it. A pretty good Christian will whistle when he steps
on the "commercial end" of a carpet-tack; a savage will howl and claw
the air, and that was just what happened that night about twelve
o'clock, while I was asleep in the cabin, where the savages thought
they "had me," sloop and all, but changed their minds when they
stepped on deck, for then they thought that I or somebody else had
them. I had no need of a dog; they howled like a pack of hounds. I had
hardly use for a gun. They jumped pell-mell, some into their canoes
and some into the sea, to cool off, I suppose, and there was a deal of
free language over it as they went. I fired several guns when I came
on deck, to let the rascals know that I was home, and then I turned in
again, feeling sure I should not be disturbed any more by people who
left in so great a hurry.

The Fuegians, being cruel, are naturally cowards; they regard a rifle
with superstitious fear. The only real danger one could see that might
come from their quarter would be from allowing them to surround one
within bow-shot, or to anchor within range where they might lie in
ambush. As for their coming on deck at night, even had I not put tacks
about, I could have cleared them off by shots from the cabin and hold.
I always kept a quantity of ammunition within reach in the hold and in
the cabin and in the forepeak, so that retreating to any of these
places I could "hold the fort" simply by shooting up through the deck.

[Illustration: "They howled like a pack of hounds."]

Perhaps the greatest danger to be apprehended was from the use of
fire. Every canoe carries fire; nothing is thought of that, for it is
their custom to communicate by smoke-signals. The harmless brand that
lies smoldering in the bottom of one of their canoes might be ablaze
in one's cabin if he were not on the alert. The port captain of Sandy
Point warned me particularly of this danger. Only a short time before
they had fired a Chilean gunboat by throwing brands in through the
stern windows of the cabin. The _Spray_ had no openings in the cabin
or deck, except two scuttles, and these were guarded by fastenings
which could not be undone without waking me if I were asleep.

On the morning of the 9th, aft