arrived within a few fathoms of her, I learned, from the inscription in
white letters on her stern, that the craft was named the _Yorkshire
Lass_, and that she hailed from Hull.

As I drew up within hail I put my hands to my mouth, trumpet-wise, and
shouted:

"_Yorkshire Lass_ ahoy! I am a castaway, and have been adrift in this
boat ten days. May I board you?"

To my amazement, instead of replying, the group of men clustered on deck
aft turned to each other and seemed to hold a brief consultation.
Finally, after a short palaver, one of them hailed:

"Boat ahoy! I say, mister, are you a navigator?"

"Yes, certainly," I replied, much astonished at having such a question
addressed to me by a British seaman, instead of--as I had fully
expected--receiving a cordial invitation to come alongside; "I was
fourth officer of the _Saturn_, of the Planet Line of steamers running
between London and Melbourne--" and then I stopped, for instead of
listening to me they were all talking together again. At length, when
the life-boat had crept up close under the brigantine's lee quarter, one
of the men came to the rail and, looking down into the boat, remarked:

"All right, mister; come aboard, and welcome. Look out, and I'll heave
ye a line."

A couple of minutes later the life-boat, with her sails lowered, was
alongside, and, climbing the craft's low side, I reached her deck.

"Welcome aboard the _Yorkshire Lass_, mister," I was greeted by a great
burly specimen of the British "shellback", as I stepped in over the
rail. "Very glad to see ye, I'm sure. But what about your boat? She's
a fine boat and no mistake; but I'm afraid we'll have to let her go
adrift. She's too big for us to hoist her in; we've no place on deck
where we could stow her. But if there's anything of value aboard her
we'll have it out, eh, mister?"

"Certainly," I agreed. "There is still a quantity of preserved
provisions in that locker; there are the two water breakers; there is a
life-buoy--and that is about all. But, look here!" I continued; "if
something must be turned adrift, why not get rid of that long-boat of
yours, and hoist in the life-boat in her place? The latter is very much
the better boat of the two--there is indeed no comparison between them--
and I am sure she would stow very snugly in your long-boat's chocks."

"Ay," agreed the other, "I believe she would. And, as you say, she's a
lot better than the long-boat; she've got air