red from seasickness for thirty-seven years, and then for
thirty years more had been quite free from it. "Now," said Breed, "I've
been a pilot for twenty-two years, so I figure if I stick to it fifteen
years more I may be like my father after that, and have no more
trouble."

Think of that for a scheme of life!

Presently another pilot joined us, and set forth a remarkable
experience. "I was taking the steamer _Lahn_ once," said he, "through a
heavy fog, and the captain and I were both on the bridge, anxious to
locate the light-ship. You know she lies eight miles off the Hook, and
gives incoming vessels their first bearings for the channel. Of course
we didn't expect to see her light--you couldn't see anything in such
weather--but we listened for her fog-horn. How we did listen! And
presently we heard it. You get accustomed to judging distances over
water by the sound, and I put that light-ship at five miles away, or
thereabouts, and I wasn't far wrong. Well, we headed straight for it,
and heard the fog-horn all the time for about a mile. Then it suddenly
stopped.

"'Hullo!' said I. 'What's up?'

"'Confound those light-ship people,' growled the captain. 'I'll make
complaint against them for stopping their horn.'

"'Wait a little,' said I, and kept listening, listening for the horn to
blow again, and all the time we were running nearer to the shoal. Pretty
soon we slowed down, and went on a couple of miles, then another mile.
It seemed as if we must have reached the light-ship, and the captain was
in a state of mind.

"Then suddenly the fog-horn sounded again, not four lengths away, sir,
and the queer thing is it had been sounding the whole blamed time--we
got positive proof of it afterward--only we hadn't heard it. The
explanation was that we had passed through two sound zones--that's what
the scientific people call 'em--and I can tell you those sound zones
make considerable trouble for pilots."

To this perplexing statement the others nodded grave assent, and Breed
capped the tale with a sound-zone story of his own. It was just off
quarantine, and he was turning a liner to bring her up to dock when
another liner came along, also running in. Breed gave the signal three
times for the other liner to port her helm, and she signaled back three
times for him to port his. By good luck each vessel did the right thing,
and they passed safely, but neither pilot heard the whistle of the
other, and each made angry complai