ming from the barque. Her people seem
at length to have become aroused from their sleep, or stupor. A noise
is heard upon her deck, as of a scuffle, accompanied by cries of strange
intonation.

Presently two heads, apparently human, show above the bulwarks; two
faces flesh-coloured, and thinly covered with hair! Then two bodies
appear, also human-like, save that they are hairy all over--the hair of
a foxy red! They swarm up the shrouds; and clutching the ratlines shake
them, with quick violent jerks; at the same time uttering what appears
angry speech in an unknown tongue, and harsh voice, as if chiding off
the intruders. They go but a short way up the shrouds, just as far as
they could spring from the deck, and only stay there for an instant;
then dropping down again, disappear as abruptly and unceremoniously as
they had presented themselves!

The lieutenant's command to "Hold!" was a word thrown away. Without it
the men would have discontinued their stroke. They have done so: and
sit with bated breath, eyes strained, ears listening, and lips mute, as
if all had been suddenly and simultaneously struck dumb. Silence
throughout the boat--silence aboard the barque--silence everywhere: the
only sound heard being the "drip-drop" of the water as it falls from the
feathered oar-blades.

For a time the cutter's crew remains mute, not one essaying to speak a
word. They are silent, less from surprise than sheer stark terror.
Fear is depicted on their faces and observable in their attitudes, as no
wonder it should. What they have just seen is sufficient to terrify the
stoutest hearts--even those of tried tars, as all of them are. A ship
manned by hairy men--a crew of veritable Orsons! Certainly enough to
startle the most phlegmatic mariner, and make him tremble as he tugs at
his oar. But they have ceased tugging at their oars, and hold them,
blades suspended. Almost the same is their breath. One alone, at
length, musters sufficient courage to mutter:

"Gracious goodness, shipmates! what can it all mean?"

He receives no answer, though his question brings the silence to an end.
It is now further broken by the voice of the lieutenant, as also that
of the midshipman. They do not speak simultaneously, but one after the
other. The superstitious fear pervading the minds of the men does not
extend to them. They too have their fears, but of a different kind, and
from a different cause. As yet neither has communica