have no trouble in making their course, as the
sky is clear, and Sarmiento--an all-sufficient guide-post--always
visible. But although neither Captain Gancy nor Seagriff has any
anxiety as to the course, both seem anxious about something, all the
while scanning the water ahead--the skipper through his glass, the old
sealer with hand shading his eyes.

This attracting the attention of young Gancy, sharp at reading facial
expression, as are most men who follow the sea, he asks, after a time,
"What is it, father? You and Chips appear to be troubled about
something."

"Wal, Mister Ed'ard, thar ain't ennythin' rumarkabul in thet, sitiwated
ez we air; it's only nateral to be allers expectin' trouble o' some
sort. You youngsters don't think o' thet, ez we old 'uns do."

The old sealer has made haste to answer a question not put to him. He
fears that the skipper, in his solicitude as husband and father, may
break down, and betray the secret that oppresses them.

Vain the attempt at concealing it longer; for the very next instant the
Captain himself exclaims,--

"Ha! yonder! A boat full of people putting off from the shore!"

"Mout it be the pinnace, Capting?"

"No, Chips; it's some sort of native craft. Look for yourself." And he
hands him the binocular.

"Yer right, sir," says Seagriff, after a look through the glass. "A
Feweegin canoe it air, an' I do believe they're _Ailikoleeps_. Ef so,
we may look out for squalls."

Both his words and tone tell of fear,--confessed at last, since he knows
it can no longer be concealed. But the others are only surprised, for
as yet they are ignorant of any danger which may arise from an interview
with the natives, of whom they know nothing.

Meanwhile, the canoe has pulled well out from the shore--the northern
one--and is evidently making to meet the gig in mid-water, an encounter
which cannot be avoided, the breeze being now light, and the boat having
little way, nothing like enough to shun the encounter. Seeing it to be
inevitable, the Captain says, "We may as well show a bold front, and
speak them, I suppose?"

"Yes," assents Seagriff, "thet air the best way. 'Sides, thar's no
chance o' our gettin' past 'em out o' reach o' thar sling-stones. But I
guess we hevn't much to fear from thet lot, ef thar aren't others to
jine 'em; an' I don't see any others."

"Nor do I," indorses the Captain, sweeping the shore-line with his
glass. "It's the only craft I can see an