ve him;
but I held it toward him on the muzzle of my rifle, the one that "kept
on shooting." The chap picked the box off the gun gingerly enough, to
be sure, but he jumped when I said, "Quedao [Look out]," at which the
squaws laughed and seemed not at all displeased. Perhaps the wretch
had clubbed them that morning for not gathering mussels enough for his
breakfast. There was a good understanding among us all.

From Charles Island the _Spray_ crossed over to Fortescue Bay, where
she anchored and spent a comfortable night under the lee of high land,
while the wind howled outside. The bay was deserted now. They were
Fortescue Indians whom I had seen at the island, and I felt quite sure
they could not follow the _Spray_ in the present hard blow. Not to
neglect a precaution, however, I sprinkled tacks on deck before I
turned in.

On the following day the loneliness of the place was broken by the
appearance of a great steamship, making for the anchorage with a lofty
bearing. She was no Diego craft. I knew the sheer, the model, and the
poise. I threw out my flag, and directly saw the Stars and Stripes
flung to the breeze from the great ship.

The wind had then abated, and toward night the savages made their
appearance from the island, going direct to the steamer to
"yammerschooner." Then they came to the _Spray_ to beg more, or to
steal all, declaring that they got nothing from the steamer. Black
Pedro here came alongside again. My own brother could not have been
more delighted to see me, and he begged me to lend him my rifle to
shoot a guanaco for me in the morning. I assured the fellow that if I
remained there another day I would lend him the gun, but I had no mind
to remain. I gave him a cooper's draw-knife and some other small
implements which would be of service in canoe-making, and bade him be
off.

Under the cover of darkness that night I went to the steamer, which I
found to be the _Colombia,_ Captain Henderson, from New York, bound
for San Francisco. I carried all my guns along with me, in case it
should be necessary to fight my way back. In the chief mate of the
_Colombia,_ Mr. Hannibal, I found an old friend, and he referred
affectionately to days in Manila when we were there together, he in
the _Southern Cross_ and I in the _Northern Light,_ both ships as
beautiful as their names.

The _Colombia_ had an abundance of fresh stores on board. The captain
gave his steward some order, and I remember that the guil