CATCHING WHALES.]

The day before we came in sight of land, my dog repeatedly placed his
fore feet upon the rail and sniffed the wind blowing from the coast.
His inhalations were long and earnest, like those of a tobacco smoking
Comanche. In her previous voyage the Wright carried a mastiff
answering to the name of Rover. The colonel said that whenever they
approached land, though long before it was in sight, Rover would put
his paws on the bulwarks and direct his nose toward the shore. His
demonstrations were invariably accurate, and showed him to possess the
instinct of a pilot, whatever his lack of training. He did not enjoy
the ocean and was always delighted to see land.

In 1865 an Esquimaux dog was domiciled on the barque Golden Gate, on
her voyage from Norton Sound to Kamchatka. He ran in all parts of the
vessel, and made himself agreeable to every one on board. At
Petropavlovsk a Kamchadale dog became a passenger for San Francisco.
Immediately on being loosed he took possession aft and drove the
Esquimaux forward. During the whole passage he retained his place on
the quarter deck and in the cabin. Occasionally he went forward for a
promenade, but he never allowed the other dog to go abaft the
mainmast. The Esquimaux endeavored to establish amicable relations,
but the Kamchadale rejected all friendly overtures.

I heard of a dog on one of the Honolulu packets that took his turn at
duty with the regularity of a sailor, coming on deck when his watch
was called and retiring with it to the forecastle. When the sails
flapped from any cause and the clouds indicated a sudden shower, the
dog gave warning with a bark--on the sea. I ventured to ask my
informant if the animal stood the dog watch, but the question did not
receive a definite answer.

What a wonderful thing is the science of navigation. One measures the
sun's height at meridian; looks at a chronometer; consults a book of
mystical figures; makes a little slate work like a school-boy's
problem; and he knows his position at sea. Twelve o'clock, if there be
neither fog nor cloud, is the most important hour of a nautical day. A
few minutes before noon the captain is on deck with his quadrant. The
first officer is similarly provided, as he is supposed to keep a log
and practice-book of his own. Ambitious students of navigation are
sure to appear at that time. On the Wright we turned out four
instruments, with twice as many hands to hold them. A minute before
tw