At the first splash a silvery-white ghost rose bolt upright from
the oily water and sighed a weird whistling sigh. Harvey started
back with a shout, but Dan only laughed. "Grampus," said he.
"Beggin' fer fish-heads. They up-eend thet way when they're
hungry. Breath on him like the doleful tombs, hain't he?" A
horrible stench of decayed fish filled the air as the pillar of
white sank, and the water bubbled oilily. "Hain't ye never seen a
grampus up-eend before? You'll see 'em by hundreds 'fore ye're
through. Say, it's good to hev a boy aboard again. Otto was too
old, an' a Dutchy at that. Him an' me we fought consid'ble.
'Wouldn't ha' keered fer thet ef he'd hed a Christian tongue in
his head. Sleepy?"

"Dead sleepy," said Harvey, nodding forward.

"'Mustn't sleep on watch. Rouse up an' see ef our anchor-light's
bright an' shinin'. You're on watch now, Harve."

"Pshaw! What's to hurt us? Bright's day. Sn-orrr!

"Jest when things happen, dad says. Fine weather's good sleepin',
an' 'fore you know, mebbe, you're cut in two by a liner, an'
seventeen brass-bound officers, all gen'elmen, lift their hand to
it that your lights was aout an' there was a thick fog. Harve,
I've kinder took to you, but ef you nod onct more I'll lay into
you with a rope's end."

The moon, who sees many strange things on the Banks, looked down
on a slim youth in knickerbockers and a red jersey, staggering
around the cluttered decks of a seventy-ton schooner, while behind