ire quickly.

"_Iss_! A horn, I tell 'oo! ... Listen! ... Just after ours is
sounded!"

_R-r-ah! ... R-r-ah! ... R-ah!_ Joe was improving.

We listened intently.... "There now," said John!

Yes! Sure enough! Faint rasps answering ours. Ulrichs said three;
two, I thought!

"Don't ye 'ear that 'orn, ye dago fiddler," shouted the bo'sun....
"'Ere! Hup there, one of ye, an' blow a proper blast! That damn
hoodlum! Ye couldn't 'ear 'is trumpetin' at th' back of an area
railin's!"

John went on the head; the bo'sun aft to report.

A proper blast! The Welshman had the trick of the wheezing 'gad jet.'
... Ah! There again! ... Three blasts, right enough! ... She would
be a square rigger, running, like ourselves! ... Perhaps we were
making on her! ... The sound seemed louder.... It came from ahead!

R-R-R-R-R-AH! ... R-R-R-R-R-AH! ... R-R-R-R-R-AH!

_... R-r-r-r-eh! ... R-r-r-r-eh! ... R-r-r-r-eh!_

The Mate was now on the alert, peering and listening. At the plain
answer to our horn, he rapped out orders. "Lower away main an'
fore-to'gal'ns'ls ... let 'em hang, an' lay aft and haul th' mains'l
up! Come aft here, one of you boys, and call th' Captain! Tell him
it's come down thick! Sharp, now!"

I went below and roused the Old Man.

"Aye ... all right," he said, feeling for his sea-boots. (South'ard of
the 'forties' Old Jock slept 'all standing,' as we say.) .... "Thick,
eh? ... Tell th' Mate t' keep th' horn goin'! ... A ship, ye say? ...
Running, eh? ... Aye! All right ... I'll be up...."

I had scarcely reached the poop again before the Old Man was at my
back. "Thick, b'Goad," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Man, man! Why was
I not called before?"

The Mate muttered something about the mist having just closed in....
"Clear enough t' be goin' on before that," he said.

"Aye, aye! Where d'ye mak' this ship? Ye would see her before the
mist cam' doon, eh?"

"Sound that horn, forrard there!" shouted the Mate, moving off to the
gangway. "Keep that horn going, there!"

John pumped a stirring blast.... R-R-R-R-R-AH! ... R-R-R-R-R-AH! ...
R-R-R-R-R-AH!

We bent forward with ears strained to catch the distant note.

... _R-r-r-r-eh!_ ... At the first answering blast Old Jock raised
his head, glancing fearfully round.... _R-r-r-r-eh! ... R-r-r-r----_
"Down hellum! DOWN HELLUM! DOWN," he yelled, running aft to the
wheel! "Haul yards forrard! Le'go port braces! Let