the little speck which floated
upon the gurgling current; then, with a voice "filled with the fogs of
the ocean," he thundered forth, as though he were hailing a man-of-war:
"What boat's that?"

"Paper canoe Maria Theresa," I replied, in as foggy a voice as I could
assume.

"Where from, and where bound?" again roared the captain.

"_From_ Quebec, Canada, and _bound_ to sleep on board your vessel, if I
can ever get up there," I politely responded, in a more subdued voice,
for I soon discovered that nature had never intended me for a
fog-trumpet.

"Ah, is it you?" cheerily responded the captain, suddenly dispensing
with all his fogginess; "I've been looking for you this long time. Got a
Charleston paper on board; your trip all in it. Come up, and break a
bottle of wine with me."

"All hands" came from the forecastle, and Finland mates and Finland
sailors, speaking both English and Russian, crowded to the rail to
receive the paper canoe, which had first been described to them by
English newspapers when the vessel lay in a British port, awaiting the
charter-party which afterwards sent them to Bull River, South Carolina,
for a load of phosphates.

The jolly crew lowered buntlines and clewlines, to which I attached my
boat's stores. These were hoisted up the high sides of the ship, and,
after bending on a line to the bow and stern rings of the canoe, I
ascended by the ladder, while Captain Johs. Bergelund and his mates
claimed the pleasure of landing the paper canoe on the deck of the
Rurik. The tiny shell looked very small as she rested on the broad,
white decks of the emperor of Russia's old steam yacht, which bore the
name of the founder of the Russian empire. Though now a bark and not a
steamer, though a freighter and not a royal yacht, the Rurik looked
every inch a government vessel, for her young captain, with a sailor's
pride, kept her in a thorough state of cleanliness and order. We went to
supper. The captain, his mates, and the stranger gathered around the
board, while the generous sailor brought out his curious bottles and put
them by the side of the still more curious dishes of food.

All my surroundings were those of the country of the midnight sun, and I
should have felt more bewildered than when in the fog I viewed and
chased this spectral-looking ship, had not Captain Bergelund, in most
excellent English, entertained me with a flow of conversation which put
me at my ease. He discoursed of Finland, whe