lly returned home.

The man who had been thus successful in saving the ship, and probably
the lives of his mates--for it was a desolate isle, far out of the
tracks of commerce--was standing in the bow of the vessel, watching the
shore with his companions as they drew near. He was a splendid specimen
of manhood, clad in a red shirt and canvas trousers, while a wide-awake
took the place of the usual seafaring cap. He stood head and shoulders
above his fellows.

Just as the ship rounded the end of the pier, which formed one side of
the harbour, a small boat shot out from it. A little boy sculled the
boat, and, apparently, had been ignorant of the ship's approach, for he
gave a shout of alarm on seeing it, and made frantic efforts to get out
of its way. In his wild attempts to turn the boat he missed a stroke
and went backwards into the sea.

At the same moment the lookout on the ship gave the order to put the
helm hard a-starboard in a hurried shout.

Prompt obedience caused the ship to sheer off a little, and her side
just grazed the boat. All hands on the forecastle gazed down anxiously
for the boy's reappearance.

Up he came next moment with a bubbling cry and clutching fingers.

"He can't swim!" cried one.

"Out with a lifebelt!" shouted another.

Our tall seaman bent forward as they spoke, and, just as the boy sank a
second time, he shot like an arrow into the water.

"He's all safe now," remarked a seaman quietly, and with a nod of
satisfaction, even before the rescuer had reappeared.

And he was right. The red-shirted sailor rose a moment later with the
boy in his arms. Chucking the urchin into the boat he swam to the
pier-head with the smooth facility and speed of an otter, climbed the
wooden piles with the ease of an athlete, walked rapidly along the pier,
and arrived at the head of the harbour almost as soon as his own ship.

"That's the tenth life he's saved since he came aboard--to say nothin'
o' savin' the ship herself," remarked the Captain to an inquirer, after
the vessel had reached her moorings. "An' none o' the lives was as easy
to manage as that one. Some o' them much harder."

We will follow this magnificent seaman for a time, good reader.

Having obtained permission to quit the South Sea whaler he walked
straight to the office of a steam shipping company, and secured a
fore-cabin passage to England. He went on board dressed as he had
arrived, in the red shirt, ducks, and wide-a