urniture, and its owner probably lived in the village where
he had sung for his dinner over-night. Of course, to borrow her--merely
to borrow her, of course--without permission was--

Another splatter of pistol shots came from the steamer, and a yelping of
negro voices. Captain Kettle hesitated no longer. He laid hands on the
canoe's gunwale, and ran her down into the edge of the surf. He had
barely patience to wait for a smooth, but, after three rollers had
roared themselves into yeast and quietude, he ran his little craft out
till the water was arm-pit deep, and then scrambled on board and paddled
furiously.

But it is not given to the European to equal the skill of the black on
African surf beaches, and, as might be expected, the next roller that
swooped in overended the canoe, and sent it spinning like a toy through
the broken water. But Captain Kettle had gained some way; and if he
could not paddle the little craft to sea, he could at least swim her
out; and this he proceeded to do. He was as handy as an otter in the
water, and besides, there was something here which was dragging him to
seaward very strongly. His soul lusted for touch with a steamer again
with a fierceness which he did not own even to himself. Even a wrecked
steamer was a thing of kinship to him then.

He swam the dug-out through the last drench and backtow of the surf,
rocked her clear from part of her watery load, and then, with a feeling
of relief, clambered gingerly on board and baled the rest over the
gunwale with his hands. It is not good to stay over-long in these seas
which fringe the West African beaches, by reason of the ground shark
which makes them his hunting-ground. And then he manned the paddle,
knelt in the stern, and went the shortest way to the steamer which
perched on the rock.

The moon was still riding in the sky, but burnt with a pale light now,
as dawn had jumped up from behind the shore forests. All things were
shown clearly. Among other matters, Kettle noted from trifles in her
garnishing, which read clear as print to a seaman's eye, that the
steamer was not French or German as he had guessed before, but hailed
from his own native islands. Moreover, her funnel told him that she was
not one of the two regular lines from Liverpool, which do all the
commerce of the coast. But he had no time for fresh speculations just
then as to her business. The scuffling on board had been growing more
and more serious, and it was clear t