learn."

"'Guess I have," said Harvey, dolefully, looking at the tangle of
ropes and blocks overhead.

"She's a daisy," said Dan, enthusiastically, misunderstanding the
look. "Wait till our mainsail's bent, an' she walks home with all
her salt wet. There's some work first, though." He pointed down
into the darkness of the open main-hatch between the two masts.

"What's that for? It's all empty," said Harvey.

"You an' me an' a few more hev got to fill it," said Dan. "That's
where the fish goes."

"Alive?" said Harvey.

"Well, no. They're so's to be ruther dead - an' flat - an' salt.
There's a hundred hogshead o' salt in the bins; an' we hain't
more'n covered our dunnage to now."

"Where are the fish, though?"

"'In the sea, they say; in the boats, we pray,'" said Dan, quoting
a fisherman's proverb. "You come in last night with 'baout forty
of 'em."

He pointed to a sort of wooden pen just in front of the quarter-
deck.