climbing the ladder straight at the sputtering officer.

"Be careful there, Smith," warned Madden in an undertone; "he'd as soon
as not slug you without giving you a dog's chance."

Caradoc said nothing but continued his climbing. The men on the platform
fore and aft ceased work, watching the mate and the climbing man
intently. The silence following the usual drone of conversation was
noticeable.

Caradoc was just reaching up to climb into Malone, when at that moment
something happened that drew and held everybody's attention.

The whole face of the sea around the dock broke into a sort of
sputtering. The ocean seemed to boil. To his astonishment, Madden saw
the commotion was caused by millions of small fishes leaping and running
along the surface.

Cries came from all over the dock at once: "Pilchards! Pilchards are
shoaling! Pilchards are shoaling!"

The few gulls in the sky now seemed to multiply and settled in a
fluttering cloud to strike such easily captured food. Among the press of
little fish leaped cod, hake, dog fish, all feasting on the annual
migration of the pilchards. The crew on the dock scrambled up and over
the sides, flung down boxes, buckets, anything and scooped the fish from
the sea.

The diversion saved the Englishman from any bellicose intention of the
mate, who hurried off to take a hand in the sport. Madden sat on his