last five days--until this morning, when we consumed the last of
our provisions--some of us have never tasted water."

"Waal, stranger, that's bad news to tell. But I calculate we can soon
put you all right. Here," he continued, addressing himself to the men
who were peering curiously over the bulwarks at the occupants of the
boat, "jump down, some of you, and help 'em up over the side."

There was a hearty laugh at this order, to the intense surprise of our
adventurers; but the skipper of the brig was evidently a man who was not
to be trifled with; with two strides he was among the jeering crowd of
men with a revolver in each hand.

"Now, git," he exclaimed, levelling the pistols; and the men waited for
no second bidding. In an instant some half a dozen of them sprang into
the boat; the brig's gangway was opened, and the boat's crew were
somewhat sullenly assisted up the side of the brig and on to her deck.

The black-bearded man met them as they came up the side, and held out
his hand to Captain Staunton.

"Morning, straanger," he repeated. "I'm powerful glad to see you all."

"Thank you," returned the skipper. "I can assure you we are all at
least equally glad to see you, and to find ourselves once more with a
deck beneath our feet. What ship is this, may I ask, and by what name
shall we call the gentleman who has given us so kind a reception?"

"The brig's called the _Albatross_; and my name is Johnson--at your
service."

"You are an American cruiser, I presume?" continued Captain Staunton,
looking first at the beautifully kept decks, and then more doubtfully at
the gang of desperadoes who crowded round.

"Sorter," briefly replied the man who had called himself Johnson; and
the reply seemed for some reason to mightily tickle his crew, most of
whom burst into a hearty guffaw.

Captain Staunton glanced round upon them with such stern surprise that
the fellows fell back a pace or two; and the skipper of the brig, first
darting a furious glance upon his followers, led the way aft to the
cabin, saying--

"I sorter waited breakfast when I made out through the glass that you
were a shipwrecked crew, calculatin' that prob'ly you'd be glad to find
yourselves in front of a good square meal. Your crew will have to make
themselves at home in the fo'ks'le; and if my lads don't treat 'em
properly, why they must just knock 'em down. My people are a trifle
orkard to deal with at first, but I guess they'll all p