es), and many stories of his and his Mates' brutality were
current at the Front. No seaman would sign in the _Flint_ if he had
the choice; but the choice lay with the boarding-master when 'Bully'
Nathan put up the price.

"Give me gravediggers or organ-grinders, boys, if ye kyan't get
sailormen," he was reported to have said. "Anything with two hands an'
feet. I guess I'm Jan--K.--Nathan, and they'll be sailormen or
'stiffs' before we reach aout!" No one knew where she got a crew, but
while the Britishers were awaiting semi-lawful service, Jan K. slipped
out through the night, getting the boarding-house runners to set sail
for him before they left the _Flint_ with her crew of drugged
longshoremen. At the end of the week we got three more men. Granger,
a Liverpool man, who had been working in the Union Ironworks, and,
"sick o' th' beach," as he put it, wanted to get back to sea again.
Pat Hogan, a merry-faced Irishman, who signed as cook (much to the joy
of Houston, who had been the 'food spoiler' since McEwan cleared). The
third was a lad, Cutler, a runaway apprentice, who had been working
ashore since his ship had sailed. It was said that he had been
'conducting' a tramcar to his own immediate profit and was anxious. We
were still six hands short, but, on the morning after a Yankee clipper
came in from New York, we towed out--with three prostrate figures lying
huddled among the raffle in the fo'cas'le.

* * * * *

We raised the anchor about midnight and dawn found us creeping through
the Golden Gate in the wake of a panting tug. There was nothing to
see, for the morning mist was over the Straits, and we had no parting
view of the harbour. The siren on Benita Point roared a raucous
warning as we felt our way past the Head; and that, for us, was the
last of the land.

When we reached the schooner and discharged our Pilot, it was still a
'clock calm,' and there was nothing for it but to tow for an offing,
while we put the canvas on her in readiness for a breeze.

At setting sail we were hard wrought, for we were still three hands
short of our complement, and the three in the fo'cas'le were beyond
hope by reason of drug and drink. The blocks and gear were stiff after
the long spell in harbour. Some of the new men were poor stuff. The
Mexican 'rancheros' were the worst; one was already sea-sick, and the
other had a look of despair. They followed the 'crowd' about and made
some