't see it. I
hadn't time to look for it after she struck, and certainly it didn't
much matter then whether I saw it or not.

But this gave her a fine departure for Cape Greenville, the next point
ahead. I saw the ugly boulders under the sloop's keel as she flashed
over them, and I made a mental note of it that the letter M, for which
the reef was named, was the thirteenth one in our alphabet, and that
thirteen, as noted years before, was still my lucky number. The
natives of Cape Greenville are notoriously bad, and I was advised to
give them the go-by. Accordingly, from M Reef I steered outside of the
adjacent islands, to be on the safe side. Skipping along now, the
_Spray_ passed Home Island, off the pitch of the cape, soon after
midnight, and squared away on a westerly course. A short time later
she fell in with a steamer bound south, groping her way in the dark
and making the night dismal with her own black smoke.

From Home Island I made for Sunday Island, and bringing that abeam,
shortened sail, not wishing to make Bird Island, farther along, before
daylight, the wind being still fresh and the islands being low, with
dangers about them. Wednesday, June 9, 1897, at daylight, Bird Island
was dead ahead, distant two and a half miles, which I considered near
enough. A strong current was pressing the sloop forward. I did not
shorten sail too soon in the night! The first and only Australian
canoe seen on the voyage was encountered here standing from the
mainland, with a rag of sail set, bound for this island.

A long, slim fish that leaped on board in the night was found on deck
this morning. I had it for breakfast. The spry chap was no larger
around than a herring, which it resembled in every respect, except
that it was three times as long; but that was so much the better, for
I am rather fond of fresh herring, anyway. A great number of
fisher-birds were about this day, which was one of the pleasantest on
God's earth. The _Spray_, dancing over the waves, entered Albany Pass
as the sun drew low in the west over the hills of Australia.

At 7:30 P.M. the _Spray_, now through the pass, came to anchor in a
cove in the mainland, near a pearl-fisherman, called the _Tarawa_,
which was at anchor, her captain from the deck of his vessel directing
me to a berth. This done, he at once came on board to clasp hands. The
_Tarawa_ was a Californian, and Captain Jones, her master, was an
American.

On the following morning Captain